Things of Fire and Ash
by Reckless 0ne
Summary: He screamed, he yelled, his raw voice echoed on the walls of his prison. How had he become this? Trapped beneath discomforts and locked inside of his own mind. But then she had come. She said she had a key to end his misery. All he'd have to do was accept her; help her out in turn. He and three others would help, as if only to break Percy Jackson from the bonds that chained him. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hello…and enjoy the story! :D**

** Chapter 1: The Fire in Their Eyes**

_August 18_

_Creak_…

_Creak…_

The willow trees practically sang as they swayed side to side, creating an unkempt melody as uncheerful as the place itself. It was not necessarily the place that dampened the spirits of every child to set foot in the little stone building, but rather the Keeper there, the one that ruled with an iron fist. While the place once had grass, the sole's of many children's feet had trampled it to nothing but hard worn dirt, rather like the hearts of them who'd trodden on the grass. Crushed to the ground before they could ever truly bloom.

But this night was different; the willows sad song seemed different, lighter, perhaps even lilting. They seemed to be rejoicing almost, as if something good was about to happen.

And then something did happen. Not what Matilda, the Keeper, would have defined as "good," but rather amusing, as she looked down upon it with her beady eyes.

It was a woman in her early twenties with messy brown hair but with eyes the color of steaming coffee that shone with goodness and fierce determination. She had crawled up the porch stairs desperately in need of attention, as she looked ready to conceive her child at any moment.

"My baby…will you help me?" it was a hoarse plea, one that Matilda was about to laugh at, slam the door, and leave the lady to her miseries. But something shinned in her dark eyes; and they spoke of years and wisdom beyond her age. And in a flash, Matilda saw the determination, she would not give up–ever, and nothing Matilda could do would stop her. Matilda knew the look, for she had worn it long ago, when she herself was in desperate need of attention.

Matilda took in a sharp breath, and if ever questioned, would never admit to it, but she took the young woman in, determined to do some good before her old, grey bones crumbled to ashes, and were then thrown in a fire to be burned into nothingness.

* * *

The wails of a newborn shattered the night in Matilda Mariette's Orphanage for Orphaned Children. Matilda had taken the new mother to her own bedroom and helped her through the difficult labor. They herd not a peep from the other children, awakened by the screams, but as uncaring as the mice that stole bits and crumbs of food from the pantry.

Matilda knew the mother, Sally, had not much longer left, as her breath was faint and her eyes dimmed by the second. She turned around to let the new mother coddle her child in her last few seconds, busying herself with folded towels.

But Sally's sharp call summoned her back.

"Listen," and she chuckled softly," I know I don't have much longer left…you don't have to tell me…"

Matilda could only stare into the fearless eyes before her for so long.

"Listen!" she suddenly said when Matilda awkwardly turned her head, with the fire of a protective lioness, "his name…Perseus…for his father…Rydall…for his grandfather…and Jackson…for me…"Sally said on the tails of her exhales. "Watch him…for me…"

"But I–I…I'm too old," Matilda protested, "I'll die before the child's tenth birthday, most likely before that! I cannot promise to still be alive, or to take care of him!"

Sally just smiled a knowing smile, and tilted her head up wistfully, "Don't worry…you will…be alive…as long as he needs you…

"Promise to me!"

Matilda half jumped back; astonished at Sally's sudden fierce desire and will.

"I–I…promise…"

And then Sally Jackson was no more, the rains fell, and she was buried between the willows.

* * *

_Twelve Years Later_

His eyes, the one aspect of him Matilda could never truly understand. They were quite scary, reflecting his mood in sea green frothing fires and waves. They were like emeralds, except twice as beautiful and much more captivating, showing determination much like his mother's had. In fact, they were much like his mother's, almost replicas besides the colors.

Matilda sighed; she'd kept her promise, if giving the little Percy the last bits of wilted brown broccoli counted…which it probably didn't.

He was an oddball, keeping to himself in the twenty or so children that roamed the brick building. He scared them, Matilda knew as much as that, but he seemed so sweet, and the one girl that got to talk about him just said, "Oh no ma'am, no ma'am at all, he's not mean or anything, just different, and nobody likes different." Which was hardly a satisfying answer.

Even at school he was a loner, playing by himself a recess, eating alone. He was definitely not the brightest kid, being diagnosed with both ADHD and dyslexia. A C- on his report card was considered, "An exemplary achievement worth celebration," by his teachers.

And he'd gotten in more trouble than one could imagine, giving the class an, "Unplanned swim," once and being the subject of many tall men in brown suits, all who came and stared at him before being threatened by the teachers.

Percy had been expelled six times in six years, which on its own was a worthy-some achievement, but when stacked up gave Matilda a terrible headache. She was running out of public schools, and no one seemed willing to offer him a place at their private school.

_Oh Percy, what am I going to do with a rascal like you…?_

Matilda's old bones croaked in protest as she stood up to watch Percy fly out the door and into the woods, which called him as the willows called to his mother.

She was worried about him, but he'd always come back, right?

But as the sun slowly set she became more anxious, hiding it under a practiced frown. She gathered up the children to go looking for him, but they couldn't find him, he'd left not a trace. Disappearing off the face of the earth, it seemed even, when she contacted the police.

Matilda was deeply troubled; had she'd broken her promise? Was the child gone because of it?

She continued to regularly scan the newspaper, desperate for some trace, some clue as to where he could be. But nothing came, and as Matilda lay on her deathbed, she felt remorse as she'd never felt, and it was tearing at her heart.

_Creak…_

_Creak…_

It seemed as if the willows mourned Perseus Rydall Jackson as well, the same willows that once called out so forcefully to his dead mother.

**_March 21, 2015_**

**Wow, 1,080 words, the most words I've ever typed.…**

**Okay question, in most crossovers, the writers ignore the fifteen or so year differences in the HP and PJ books, but I don't particularly want to do that… If you have a suggestion, please comment…I really want to make this story amazing!**

**–FourHeart or Jay or Whatever…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Gooday mates, hope yah all have good days! :D**

**Shout out to my super duper many reviewers (4): **

**Son of The Herobrine , TheWorldsMusic, Winterlover6, and Thorn D. Cinni**

**Chapter 2: The Destroyed House**

Deep in the woods near a dark graveyard stood a boy no older than fifteen, his clothes were ripped and his arms bore many bleeding gashes. His aviator jacket was muddy and his combat boots showed years of age. He immediately checked his surroundings before collapsing near a fallen oak.

Nico di Angelo was not feeling the love… He had started out his day with a hundred-and-one hellhounds out to kill him just because he happened to stumble into their nesting grounds during breading season.

Go figure.

Seriously, he'd been fighting for most of the morning and just when he'd _almost_ gotten a break.

"Nicky, need yah at Camp Jupiter," Percy's I-Message popped out of nowhere, scaring Nico half to death.

"Percy," he whined, staring at Percy, "how 'bout tomorrow, I'm free then…"

He knew, in fact, that he was very much not free tomorrow, but he was hoping to delay the conversation.

Nico watched Percy's face become more serious, "Sorry, but I need you now, something is happening with the Camp, something bad."

_Dang it._

"Bruh, I've been fighting hellhounds, like, all day… I'm tired!"

"Why didn't you just shadow travel away?"

Nico mentally face palmed, it couldn't have really been that easy…could it have been?"

Percy must've understood his look, "Dude, your blonde is showing…"

"I'm not blonde, I have amazing silky raven locks, and that's an insult to Jason and Annab–…"

There was that awkward silence, the same silence that popped up whenever Annabeth was mentioned–cold and unforgiving.

_Why did you bring Annabeth up?_

Nico felt like kicking himself. When Nico had been upset about Bianca, Percy comforted him, yet why couldn't he do the same?

_Because you'll never be as good as Percy._

"Sorry dude," Nico said blandly.

Percy face twisted in to an unpleasant emotion, his voice grim he said, "I better see you here by two o'clock sharp. Oh, and bring Valdez, Reyna thinks he might be able to help…"

"Fine, I'll be there by five…which is two for all you Pacific Time Zone people," Nico added quickly.

Percy's rough face melted into a small grin, "Thanks Nicky, I don't know what we'd do without you."

_You'd all die and crumble to ashes because I wouldn't be able to wait on you're every command and order._

Nico watched as Percy swiped his hand through the evaporating mist.

_Great._

* * *

Yeah, give the fifteen-year old kid who'd probably spent a third of his life alone with the dead, the job of _messenger._ It made Nico want to gag; interacting with people was hard enough, doing it on a daily basis made him want to curl up in a ball forever. Just because he could deliver the news in roughly an hour, and that was only considering he didn't pass out, it wasn't fair for him to be treated like a human Pony Express. Or an inhuman Pony Express, as he had lately been noticing that after he shadow traveled his hand passed through most objects, it made him queasy to think about what that could mean.

_What moron thought of this brilliant plan…?_

Technically in had been Jason Grace, but Mister Fru Fru liked to call it a, "Wonderful energetic solution worked out among both camps to further the bonding of Demigods and other magical creatures…" He'd sounded a lot like Octavian.

Which Nice took as, "Dude…you need to get a life."

He didn't appreciate it. Not that he appreciated a lot, but he thought Jason was his friend, it hurt to see him already brush Nico off his clothes like a stray thread.

But maybe that was what friends did; used you and then left you to the dust when you couldn't do anything for them–at least that had been his experience of them.

* * *

_Five Hours Earlier…well, maybe not, since there is a three-hour time difference…but then again, maybe so…_

Percy Jackson walked down New Rome with a slight-but-noticeable limp. The price of being a hero was high, and Percy didn't know when his last payment would run out. With his luck, it could the next day.

He shook his head, no reason to thing about his death before it would occur.

_But if it was tomorrow…and I died…I-I…I could see her again!_

And just like that his dreams were re-crushed. He felt a lonely tear slide down his face, accompanied by none, just like him. It was one last reminder that he would never, ever see his Wise Girl again.

"Percy…Percy!" Reyna sprinted down _Romulus's Road_ yelling with urgency and shaking him out of his sorrow.

Percy stood up from his Frappuccino and caught her as she turned onto _Remus's Road _(which was named so rather begrudgingly).

"Well Miss Praetor, tut tut, it does ruin the image to see one's leader frantically running down a road screaming an Ex-Praetor's name. What would Octavian say?" Percy said with a goofy grin, trying to mask the pain.

Reyna looked at him and after catching her breath said, "Shut up, and if Octavian told me his opinion you'd find his head on a silver platter. You know," Reyna took out her knife, "Your head would be fine as well."

"Ha. Ha. What do you want?" It wasn't odd for Reyna to seek Percy out at times.

Reyna immediately turned serious, and while tucking in her knife said, "The mist isn't working right, and when Alexia and Carmen were taking their rounds the Mortals noticed, they've already put cones and caution tape around the whole area. There have been six news reports on us already; one said we were a, "Gang of teens devoted to causing mayhem, public disturbances, and the Roman teachings." We need help, this is a huge problem; can you notify Nico and Leo and ask them to come? The rest are going some task for the gods. We're having a senate meeting ten after two…which is in twenty minutes, hurry!"

And just like that she was gone again.

Percy shook his head.

_What now?_

* * *

Everyone was staring at Percy, which was odd as Reyna was doing all the talking. Percy was just sitting in for Frank, who just happened to be at Camp Half-Blood with Hazel.

_Ugh, itchy toga._

It was a shame; if he hadn't been so focused on other things he might've actually listened to the meeting, what little he actually heard sounded interesting. As it was, he really was just lost in bliss. Memories skirted around in his mind, playing like a fast-forwarded movie.

He closed his eyes tightly…_love_…something was calling him…almost like Annabeth…or something…his mother…? His heart was aching in a strange manor; he somehow knew going would make him feel different, better.

"Nico!" Percy suddenly yelled out loud, interrupting Reyna. "We have to go, now! Britain…something–" Percy staggered sideways, "there's something there!"

Reyna looked at him confusingly as Nico groaned.

"I'm sorry, if I find anything out, I'll IM you…come on Nico!" Percy yelled frantically.

They clasped hands and ran into a shadow.

"What the heck Percy, why are we _here_."

Percy felt his cheeks redden, "I'm not exactly sure…?"

Percy really didn't feel like telling Nico that the reason they'd come here was because he'd felt some magical pulling of love.

"Perseus Jackson, if this is all for nothing, I swear to–" Nico collapsed into a heap.

Percy frowned; he dragged Nico to a street bench. Hopefully no one noticed, which they probably would, but still…

Percy weighed the opportunities, leaving Nico probably wasn't the safest idea, but it was definitely faster. Deciding that the pros outranked the cons, he wrote Nico a note that told him he'd be back later.

Praying to every god he knew to keep Nico safe, he left.

* * *

He wandered, that's the only thing that can be said of what he did. Wandering until he literally almost ran into a statue. It was unusual, not overly adorned or bejeweled, it spoke of humility, people who were not proud or arrogant. On it were three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms.

He crouched down beside it, and stared at it, the pull seemed to momentarily resign over the statue. Its familiarity creeping into him with small, strong, soothing waves. He touched the baby's face, which looked similar yet alien to his own. And then Percy noticed the eyes, carefree and happy, so unlike his own.

As he ran his fingertips over the cool marble eyes something strange happened, a thick strand of what looked like mist seemed to flow out of both irises, pouring into a glass vial that seemingly winked into existence.

Percy stepped back and blinked, staring at the floating vial.

_Holy Hera…_

His mind told him to ignore it while his heart told him to embrace it. Divided, he took it gingerly, as if it could break at the slightest provocation and pocketed it carefully. His curiosity was greater than his minds dictation, but still, was he going crazy? Percy was pretty sure milky substances didn't pour our of statues' eyes _into_ something that suddenly _apparated_ into existence. And unless he'd missed something during the '_Magical and Un-magical Things of This World'_ class Chiron forced him to take, something was definitely up.

Something was still calling to him, conflicted but determined not to lose it, he tore his eyes from the statue, and walking away from it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

His senses pulled him down a dark street to a bunch of houses and stopping at the house at the end of the row, he studied it.

The hedges were overgrown, but most of the cottage remained standing. The right side of the top floor had been blown apart, almost as if some ginormous hand had punched into it.

Percy stepped closer and grasped the thickly rusted gate, but stopped in his tracks. His touch on the gate seemed to have done it. A sign had risen out of the ground in front of them, up thorough the tangles of nettles and weeds, like some bizarre, fast-growing flower, and in golden letters upon the wood it said:

_On this spot, on this night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family._

All around these neatly lettered words were scribbles, some just signing their name, while others left messages of encouragement.

Percy stared at it long time, and then one particular name and message shined out at him, it said:

_Harry Potter, I wish you the luck of the gods, we all stand behind you._

_–A. Chase_

Percy closed his eyes and fisted his hands around the metal bars of the gate. Why had _She _been there, how could she have written a note to this guy? Was this some sort of message to Percy?

_Killing Curse…Wizard…Harry Potter…_

Percy swallowed the name and opened the gate; taking long strides he entered the house. He let whatever emotion he was feeling guide him up the stairs, and to the right, he did it as if entranced.

He stepped through the threshold of the room with a hole and stopped.

Percy knew what was on the floor, though it was washed away carefully, he could tell, blood.

Blood shed through heart-breaking, pounding, passionate love. He wondered if this was what had called to him, blood shed much like his mother's.

_No._

Percy shivered with unease; he crouched down next to the wardrobe and reached under it, knowing something was there.

_A stick?_

His initial response was confusion, but yes, it was a stick about eleven inches long, decorated and adorned with swirls that reminded him of the sea. But why had it called to him? It was just a stick, wasn't it?

But it felt different though, exuding comforting in his hand, like a reassurance blanket. He wondered if it was because he and this Harry Potter dude had it similar.

That both of their parents both seemed to have died for no reason except loving their child.

_**March 29, 2015**_

**Whoa, and I thought 1,000 words was ****a lot…**

**The question still remains about what to do in the fifteen years difference in HP and PJ, HELP!**

**For some reason i really don't like this chapter…**

**–FourHeart/Jay**


	3. Chapter 3

**Helooooooooooooooooo!**

**(Hmm… did I spell hello wrong?)**

**I've noticed only two reviews (not that I had a lot to begin with. :D), is something wrong?**

**In this story, Nico is a little down beat and self worth questioning. Percy is a little dark, the girl he loved just died, and Percy somewhat blames Nico. Percy is more like Nico in this fic, his mother died, and he's still looking for some love.**

**Please tell if it's okay, R&amp;R (They keep me going)**

**Anyways…**

**Chapter 3: Magic**

The boy with dark clothes was following Percy Jackson unbeknownst to him. He'd been stalking him for sometime; blending in with the shadows had Percy become suspicious. He'd many reasons to hate this Percy Jackson, and only one to not — friendship. Apparently he and Twilight Sparkle had more in common than he knew. _Friendship is Magic_…totally a plausible idea.

He gave a dark chuckle, deep enough to remain unnoticed. Friendship, or as Chiron would call it 'love' was supposedly the strongest magic. Supposedly it was the magic that could end all suffering.  
Nico thought it was a hoax, it didn't stop Bianca from dying, or for that matter, his mother.

But then again, maybe that was just how he saw love. Maybe, everyone saw love differently. Maybe, just maybe, no one could ever love something born of fire and ash.

* * *

He walked swiftly down the street lit by one overhanging light, trying not to disturb anything or anyone. His cheeks were webbed with old tears' shed because of anger…and wonder.

He sat down on a bench and felt the stick. The willow limb was cradled in his pocket; on contact it exuded some warm feeling into his body, covering him head to toe. How could a willow branch make him feel at home? He felt in his other pocket where the glass vial filled with a milky substance was, carefully tucked away for later investigations.

"I should have left you."

Percy halfway turned around to greet the angry voice, he saw Nico and let his shame rise to his cheeks; he let his long hair cover his face, masking. "Yeah," he agreed, "that probably would have been best."

"But I wouldn't have done it." Nico came closer and sat on the bench beside Percy. He looked up into Percy's gaze, before dropping it, "I'm your brother, and whatever you do can't change that."

"I know…I'm—I'm just so frustrated with this whole situation," Percy grasped handfuls of dark hair, trying to erase memories of darkness. His eyes stormed and a hurricane could be seen forming with huge, frothing waves. Then he straightened up, pushed down his anger, and accepted his lot. He apologized, "I'm sorry, I know we have our differences, but it's time to over look that, it was never your fault. I'm going to need you Nico, just as much as you're going to need me." Percy looked over his shoulder, always watching for danger — protecting.

"Let's go home." Nico grasped Percy's hand.

He heard the faint, "What is home?"

_Home is where you're brothers and sisters and family is, don't ever lose sight of it, a homeless man is more dangerous than any, a man with no allegiance. _

Tumbling in together, they both felt the same shock. The entire Senate was on their knees, Reyna and the newly arrived Frank setting the primary example. Everyone was bowing to her; bowing to the one person Percy knew had the answers. He stepped up, taking the initiative. "Lady Hecate, what a pleasure." He spoke with reserve, but command as well.

She looked terrible, aged to the max, with wrinkles and protruding jawbones, her face was swollen and puffy — nothing like the beautiful, alien woman who was usually seen. "I'm in no mood for games, Jackson," she looked at him crossly, but Percy saw a flash of desperation partially hidden. "I'm sure you've noticed the magic around here dissipating, you Romans aren't that ignorant," after Reyna's self-conscious nod she continued, "well the same thing's happening to Camp Half‑Blood, and it's all because of me.

"My magic has been corrupted…" She stuttered off and looked torn between burning the place to the ground and begging for help on her knees. Percy knew which one was more likely.

"I need help… Percy, Leo, Frank, and Nico…please?"

She was actually _begging_, Percy knew a defeated goddess when he saw one; he was astonished at how quickly her pride became humility.

_Well, that settles it._

"Yes Hecate," he said, ignoring the angry, confused looks from the others, "_I_ will help you."

* * *

"You must first learn my history, my terrible history," Hecate said, beckoning the four to walk with her in a moonlit garden.

The other three Hecate specifically called out for agreed after some persuasion from Percy. All three had said they would do it for _him_, which Percy took as them trying to loosen the guilt they felt for ruining his happiness. Annabeth.

Of course they wouldn't do it for Hecate, they might have be heroes, but they were done helping the gods — even Percy.

But he looked at it differently; he looked at it like an answer, like something to connect the 'wand', to his own life. Percy knew there were answers, and Hecate was going to be his roadmap to them.

"Long, long, ago I was in love," Percy drew his wandering thoughts back to Hecate.

"He was mortal, but strong and kind and fair, a great King among men. _His_ father was ecstatic that I should love him, he hoped that we should sire a great demigod that would surpass even Heracles. My beloved's heart was pure, and I knew not what love was at that point. Though his father greatly encouraged a relationship between us, _my_ father, Perses, a titan," Leo looked awkwardly at Percy, silently teasing him.

Hecate chuckled darkly, "No, my father might have been who the original Perseus was slightly named after, but they were very different, had many different morals. My father despised that I should marry anyone except a great immortal capable of doing all things. But I was young, and fey, I did not listen to my father's instructions," in the moonlight Hecate looked absolutely demonic, Percy shivered with unease.

"I was in love, and blessed the young mortal so he could do anything, scale every mountain, heal any sick, do away with any wicked thing with just a word…" Hecate closed her eyes shamefully, "I —I am afraid my father did not see Aleixo's new self as a compensation, for one, he was not immortal, just merely gained years to his mortal life, not to go past ten-hundred. The second problem was I made him too weak, to must depend on something for his source of magic, whereas I use thoughts and words to produce spells and counter spells. My father and I, in the end, fought with the Titans and while he lost all privileges in the god's world, Zeus spared me.

"Three hundred years later, I, much older and wiser, had become a maiden goddess after helping Demeter find Persephone and learning what animals men actually were. I tried many times to revoke my blessing from Aleixo, yet it seemed that I would have to kill him, and I could not do that for fear of Zeus's wrath. But despite of my love for Aleixo, he married a wealthy nobleman's daughter in Troy, convincing her he would protect her with his strange abilities. I saw this effect too late; the anomalies began spawning rapidly, forming colonies, groups; a whole other world. I soon got permission from Zeus to purge them, as he knew the disasters of an uprising. That is how the great Witch Hunt began in Britain in the eighteenth century.

"Unfortunately I did not expect myself to start fading once the Wizards and Witches were killed, and I became so weak I had to get Iris to help me end the war. All of this happened because I was too stubborn to accept that love is a terrible disaster. You must understand this; my blessing was given to Aleixo, which was passed down to his descendants. A part of my magic was given to them, weaker yes, but as a whole, monumental. Normalcy was ruined the second I tried making Aleixo my equal."

Everyone was quite for a moment, drinking in Hecate's words.

"And so…so you're fading because your people are dying again?" Percy asked confused.

"Yes…and no," she replied, "Yes, there has been mass murder in the recent years, but no in that I am also fading because my magic, given for love, has been breached by anger, hatred, angst. Yes, there has always been anger, the Wizards are still human, but revenge has just recently been turned both great and deadly, destruction is coming to them all. My people are suffering, and they do not even realize it.

"So I need you Four to help me, my people need to be saved, and it's all in the hands of children younger than you all, except Nico. The Wizarding World is in the hands of Harry Potter, and he will not — cannot — succeed."

* * *

_1 Week Later_

"No Percy! _Aguamenti" _Hecate spoke crossly, then she said it slower like one would talk to a child, "_AH-gwah-MEN-tee, _not_ Agi-MENT-ia_! It's a water spell for Zeus's sake, how hard should that be? I'm supposed to teach you about five years worth of knowledge in only four more weeks, and you can't even master a simple water spell!"

Percy could definitely tell Hecate was frustrated with the pace they were learning, he might not be able to say _Aguamenti_ correctly_, _but he was pretty sure that wouldn't interfere with his ability to tell when gods were ticked off. Probably…Hecate seemed to act as if the world would end if he couldn't master this spell.

"Excellent job Frank," Hecate said, loud enough for all the three demigods who were failing to hear, Percy hung his head shamefully, "He just did a perfect Corporal Expecto Patronum spell."

Frank turned red with the praise, "It's nothing…" he murmured.

Percy looked at his Patronus, it was a — a… Percy couldn't tell what it was, it shifted and changed much like the castor Frank himself. He spotted a bear, elephant, bulldog, even a rhinoceros in its shifting form. Percy was pretty sure that the Patternus thingie was a big deal in the Wizarding World. "Frank, I don't know exactly what that _is_, but it certainly is _something, _be proud_._"

Percy wondered what his patronus would be, if he could even manage to say the spell. _I bet it would be different from what it'd be if Annabeth was here. _

_I'd want it to be a stag or some other noble creature —_ there seemed to be so much he didn't understand, but he felt it, felt it roar in his ears. He knew the stag had some great importance, the question was _what?_

"_Aguamenti_!" Percy gave a hoarse yell, hoping — knowing it would work. There was no tug in his stomach like when he controlled water with his mind; this power was different, alien. This new power was linked to words, whereas being Poseidon's child gave natural water instinct and ability, though his natural powers did nothing but amplify the magic. A streaming jet of water materialized beside Percy and hit the wall with a force of hurricane. They would not use wands until they were in the actual Wizarding World. Hecate had said they'd need to be the best Wizards in Britain to keep Harry Potter safe, being able to do wandless magic…apparently the Harry Potter dude needed all the help in the world so as not get himself killed.

Everyone stared at Percy, jaws to the floor; a cushion Nico had tried summoning hit him in side of his face.

"Hi," Percy said, and gave them a small wave.

_Three Weeks, Six Days, Twenty-Two Hours, and Fifty-Nine Seconds Later_

To say they were masters would be lying; to say they were amateurs would be false. While none except Frank had been able cast and control an actual mouse with an Imperious Curse, (or been able to cast any of the other two Unforgiveable Curses for that matter), all the other three were steadily increasing their magical vocabulary and ability. They'd all be considered advanced for their age.

All three had even done so well as to produce a Corporal Patronus, though Percy's was still slightly unrecognizable, sometimes taking the shape of a random glob with a head, other times the shape of a four-legged mammal, perhaps an antelope or a stag. Hecate told him he was capable of producing a Patronus, he was either not concentrating enough of emotionally distraught.

"_Crucio,_" that would be Frank, getting the hold of the Cruciatus Curse while the others watched in awe.

The huge room they were working in was lavishly adorned with soft couches in the lounge area, and targets and dummies in the magic area. With a 'boom,' Frank's new correctly cast spell one side of the room on fire, green flames licked at over twenty meters of wall, tearing hungrily at the carved wood.

"Frankie," Percy sighed, at doused the flame, "next time when you want to show off your magical abilities, aim at a dummy, or better yet, don't show off."

"Can't help being awesome Perce," Frank retorted.

"Suuuuuure you can't."

Right at that moment the giant doors to the Four's bedrooms opened, with Hecate cascading out. She looked a whole lot better than she had before, explaining that the Four's presence near her helped her regain some of her former stature.

"As all of you know, today is the last day for me to teach and guide you before you start the Hogwarts semester. For starters, all of you have mastered an adequate British accent, so that wont be much of a problem, but they still will question four new, suspicious students. You will all say that you are from the A.H. Magical School for Advanced Pupils and Honorary Students. Your school motto in Greek is, 'ζουν, την καταπολέμηση της, και κερδίστε,' or 'Live, Fight, and Win,' recite it often to create a loyal impression, alternate between English and Greek. Each of you needs to come up with your own backstory, just make sure they don't contradict each other. If any of you are in desperate need, and need to use your demi god abilities, shout a random word along with it, and if questioned, you shall say you've created a new spell. We will be going to Diagon Alley together after Harry Potter's hearing.

"Since you are all going as 'advanced' pupils, you are going to have to be different than the other pupils…you probably wont like it, but I'm going to have to reach into your soul and change your genetic and magical makeup. These traits I'm unlocking inside of you normally would have come up out into the open later in your life had you been wizards, but I'm having to force open them at this point with your demigod standard learning.

"Frank, you first," Hecate finished, "come with me."

Frank nervously went in with Hecate while the other three gruesomely sat on one of the couches.

"It can't be that bad, could it?" Leo asked, "I mean, she needs us to help the Harry Potter dude."

"Don't be so sure, I'm pretty sure we're not the only demigods in the world," Nico responded.

Then out of nowhere there was an earsplitting scream…as if Frank was reliving his worst nightmares.

Percy could only think about how much pain that'd mean for himself. _Terrible._

Percy stood up defiantly, he was going to stop Hecate no matter what, and no one could hurt his friends.

Then he felt a hard tug on his jacket, he turned around to see Nico shaking his head. His big, dark eyes spoke unspoken messages, _That's not a battle worth fighting…Frank will be okay._

After about ten minutes, Frank came out looking haggard, face ashen, eyes darting dangerously back and forth.

Percy stood up, "Are you okay…what happened Frank?"

"I – I can't tell you, not yet…Leo you're up," Frank whispered in a small voice.

"Uhhh…is that mandatory Frank…or my personal decision, I'd much prefer the second."

"Get going, Valdez," Frank practically growled, "If I had to do it, you do as well."

Leo timidly stood up and crept around Frank as one would do to a sleeping lion. He walked into Hecate's study.

Percy could only imagine what Hecate had in store for him.

* * *

"Close your eyes," Hecate commanded, "for starters, I'm unlocking your Legilimens and Occlumens abilities so you may attack and perceive the minds of others, as well as shield your own in company who can," she instructed, "This one is the hardest to unlock, requiring me to force open your mind so you will naturally respond to my break-in and try to fight me away."

Percy felt nothing for a few seconds, then, Hecate gave him a nod — a warning. In an instant, he was lying on the floor face-first; the soft carpet tickled his nose. He got up groggily and rubbed his head, "What happened?"

"I broke into your mind and before I could establish a secure bond, an anomaly occurred where your brain released all of control on your muscle and nerve, thus shocking me, whereas I instantly severed the connection fearing you'd been hurt. So, technically, anyone could have come up and stabbed you and you wouldn't have felt a thing."

"Well that's lovely…how do I not faint next time," Percy rubbed his eyes, "it's not too manly."  
"Try keeping hold on your own mind, you let me win before I even started, you prepared no defense, no wall to stop me. You would have been at my mercy."

"Got it," he said.

There was no warning this time.

Like lightning, Percy could sense Hecate's mind sending out tendrils of thought through intra-solar space into his mind.

This time he could feel it, the tendrils wrap around him without giving way. Then, in a flash, he was watching _it_, sift though his mercy — no, not _it_, him…as in Hecate. And Percy was not an _I,_ or a _me, _he was a Percy Jackson. Hecate was Hecate, but Percy was also Hecate, so that meant Hecate was thinking that Hecate was Hecate. But the Hecate/Percy was _comprehending _because Percy was Hecate and Hecate was just controlling Percy's body but his _mind_ was sharing _his_ body with Hecate, making Hecate think these thoughts and Hecate knew what Percy would want to think, so she thought them.

All in all, it was a never-ending circle.

Percy stood up, even though it was not _his_ mind telling _his_ body to stand.

Then the memory sifting became more prominent, more painful, it came to a rocky stretch in his road.

He saw Annabeth flash behind Hecate's eyes, her beautiful face paired with her grey eyes… Then he saw a terrible, gruesome thing, Annabeth was dying, shards of a bronze blade stuck in in many places of her bleeding body.

That part of Percy's story seemed to go by in slow motion, that part; Hecate was trying to make him feel to the extreme. He got to a point where he couldn't stand it, he fought, harder that ever before. Trying to get the tendrils to release their monumental hold, he flung out his mind randomly, hitting back.

_No!_

Percy let out a howl full of raw emotion and jabbed back into _it_ with his mind. He was positive it was his howl because it was not Hecate telling Hecate to do it; rather it was Percy telling Percy to do it.

Then his triumphant seemed minimal compared to what he'd just relived. Every night he thought about _her_, and relived the exact same thing, but having it thrust upon him felt terrible, unclean.

"That felt…unclean," he said softly.

"Smile," she said, "You have mastered both Legilimens and Occlumens, you fought your way into my mind, and defended your mind through anger." She waited a second before addressing him again. "Unclean? That's an unusual way to describe it, how so?"

"It felt unclean when you forced those memories on me, very so. But how am I supposed to do it again? Fight it again?" Percy grimaced, ignoring the 'smile' part.

"It is not a skill you learn, Young One, rather one that you use, and by that, master. I must say, you are quite good at breaking into minds," She said, Percy could feel her concern rolling off in motherly waves — like a cat protecting her kittens.

"Is screaming a sign of regaining into my own mind?"

"Not necessarily, Frank screamed after watching some painful things, but broke the bonds after I started walking his body, which was my body, off what he thought was a cliff. He fought for Hazel, the despair of never seeing her again made him fight with raw power."

"Don't confuse me any more," Percy muttered.

_It all seems to revolve around love, doesn't it?_

Hecate smiled, "In addition to these abnormalities, to fit your personality, I'm giving you two gifts." She got up real close to him, "What do you know about Metamorphmagi, or for that matter, Parseltounge?"

"And one last question…would you accept immortality? This time…that is."

* * *

_Ding…Dong._

_Ding…Dong._

Remus Lupin stood up slowly, the Order of the Phoenix was not expecting any visitors and Dumbledore would have sent a notice had it been him coming.

Walking to the door slowly, he pulled out his wand, as did the others behind him.

_They couldn't have found us…not without Dumbledore._

He slowly opened the door, standing there was Dumbledore himself, along with four cloaked visitors. "Albus! Greetings…but why not send a notice? You gave all of us a heart–attack."

"Not me," Sirius says in a low voice.

"I would have, but I myself just met these four young men in person five minutes ago, though I have known about them for some time. I was already here, and sending a notice seemed like a waste of parchment, or magical capability."

"Please come in," Molly said, walking up to Lupin.

"So, who are these strangers," Sirius asked straight to the point, after all of them had sat down. He was definitely wary of strangers.

"I would like to know that as well," Mr. Weasley spoke up, "Should we get Ron Harry, and Hermione?"

"Kreacher, get some drinks," Sirius commanded the old house elf.

One of the cloaked visitors watched Kreacher for a moment, and then turned away.

All four boys took their cloaks off, and Lupin saw a flash of green, which turned out to be a boy that looked just like Harry. His eyes were honest–to–God beautiful, reflecting the indescribable sea-green part of the ocean and with glittering diamonds that sparkled darkly. They eyes were strangely familiar, as if he knew them from some lost memory from ages ago. Lupin stared for a moment, and was pretty sure the guy knew it.

"No…I am sure I will get the pleasure of meeting them in the morning. I'm Percy Jackson, pure-blood," the green–eyed boy said, "This is Leo Valdez, a half-blood," he said pointing to a small boy, "Frank, a Muggle born," gesturing to a stout, well built teen, "and Nico di Angelo, half-blood."

Lupin took a good look at Nico. The youngest boy smelled different from the rest of them; he smelled like a run through forest letting the soft breeze blow through your fur…

Whoa.

Lupin had never had much contact with his 'pack,' as most would call it, but he was willing to bet that some of them smelled like this Nico kid.

He took more time to assess the other kids, Percy, the obvious leader, looked too familiar. The way he walked, fidgeted, held himself, and especially his eyes — it all reminded Lupin too much of Harry — a pure-blood Harry.

Making observations as he went, he moved on to Leo, taking in calculations and measures, he inhaled deeply. Fire, the kid Leo smelled like fire. Not necessarily a bad fire, like the ones that ate at houses unless charmed against, but a good bon-fire. Lupin could just imagine Harry, Sirius, the Weasleys, and all the rest laughing by a fire. He wondered if that was what a real family was like.

Frank was next, he seemed to feel deeply it touch with his own body, as if he'd been blind, and now miraculously could see. The animalistic part of Lupin pegged Frank as a threat, the human part of him wanted to give the big guy a hearty slap-on-the-back.

"All four of us are from the A.H. Magical School for Advanced Pupils and Honorary Students. ζουν, την καταπολέμηση της, και κερδίστε," Percy told them.

All three other boys recited together, "Live, Fight, and Win."

_Well that was odd._

Kreacher was then back with drinks, though the four boys did not take one. All the while Dumbledore was sitting quietly in the corner.

"What do you have to say about all this, Albus?"

"I do not know much of their character, as I only just met them, but I can tell that their hearts are pure and they mean us no harm. They are to travel to Hogwarts, Percy will be in Sixth Year, Nico in Fourth, Leo and Frank will be in Harry's year. At the beginning of the first semester, they will be sorted along with the First Years, and continue their studies with their own year.

"I will be personally taking Percy with me to Harry's trial, no matter the rules. I believe it will be good for him. I know their instructor well, as she personally trained me many years ago."

"One last thing, Sirius, I do not believe it would be best for you to go to the hearing."

And with that, Dumbledore swept out the door, leaving Lupin with more questions than answers.

* * *

**Okay, Percy Jackson was born in August of 1993, Harry Potter in July 1980, they are about thirteen years apart, how do I span those years? (Look at the first Chapter for the actual question)**

**Question 2, who should Percy fall in love with?**

**Ginny**

**Hermione**

**Luna**

**Cho**

**Nobody — Forever alone**

**Or anybody else you can think of…**

**(Btw, did anyone get confused with the whole Percy/Hecate thing? I sure did when I wrote it.)**

**_April 16, 2015_**

**_— _****_FourHeart, Jay_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Mates, how've yah been?**

**Review! Review! That would be super-duper awesome! (You don't have to)**

**BTW, shout out to you…if you've reviewed!**

**Chapter 4: The First Encounter**

**:D :D :D :D :D :D :D **

Harry Potter didn't know what to expect when he woke up that day, burnt toast, a yelling Kreacher, a day of hard work. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't what was in front of him reclining on the couch with its' feet propped on the table.

As soon as he had hopped down the stairs for breakfast, he had encountered something that made him pretty much speechless.

In all honesty, saying they were identical would be a lie _and_ a _slight_ insult to the guy, and Harry wasn't _that _vain_. _In Harry's totally humble opinion, the older teen boy in front of him was like a really sweet looking version of himself. There was not too much difference that Harry could find in appearance, but the boy was like an older, more in control of himself Harry. Somehow, that made a ton of difference between Harry and the guy who just seemed to ooze confidence. Tallish, a hair or two taller than Ron, the boy in front of him looked graceful yet sturdy, his face was cut in sharp angles that gave him a harsh yet serene appearance. With windswept, messy hair, Harry couldn't help wondering if the raven locks ever laid flat…Harry's own never did. He had an olive tan, which just added to the intensity of the look its self.

He heard Ron behind him say, "Blimey mate, he could be your twin. You both look exactly alike."

There was no denying that fact, yet Harry found himself coveting the guy's appearance anyway.

To Hermione's credit, she didn't say anything at all, just got slightly pink in the cheeks that confused Harry just as much as this mystery boy in front of him.

Then the boy opened his eyes, he had obviously known that the gang had been staring at him a while but had refused to open his eyes and greet them until now.

He stood up swiftly in one sharp movement, fluid like water, "Hello, my name is Percy Jackson, a pureblood from the," Percy did finger quotes around the next part, "greatest' house of Rjaksen, later renamed as Jackson, who's only heir is me."

And just like that, Harry severed any thoughts of bonding or befriending this boy. His own experience of purebloods was too great for him to accept Percy into his group, purebloods were nothing but trouble, hadn't Harry learned that the hard way?

Percy was obviously waiting for Harry to introduce himself, which he did so with a short huff of disgust. "Harry, Harry Potter."

Percy remained still, eyes on Harry like a tractor beam, he didn't seem to care that _the_ Harry Potter was standing in front of him, which Harry didn't mind. It was just…unexpected. Harry shot the boy a small look of gratitude — miniscule, he doubted if the Percy even noticed.

Hermione nudged Harry sharply in the arm, and instead of introducing her self like he had done she said sweetly, "I'm Hermione, a muggleborn."

Harry instantly saw Percy's eyes light up with amazement, "That's so cool! One of my best friends is Muggleborn, they're always the nicest wizards," Percy flicked his eyes over to Harry, "While on the other hand, my experiences with half-bloods shows me that all of them tend to be grumpy." Percy smirked, "Excluding your friend Harry here, he's just a little ray of sunshine."

Ron laughed at that, "You don't know how right you are about that."

Suddenly, Harry found that the conversation was steadily rolling downhill; an awkward Ron still hadn't introduced himself.

_Thud._

_Thud._

Said the many shoes thumping down the stairs noisily. Harry turned around quickly just in time to greet three other boys that walked down the stairs. All three of them mirrored Percy's defensive posture. All three of them had the same weathered look.

"Hey guys," Percy said, smiling. To Ron, Harry, and Hermione he said and gestured, "These are my best mates. Leo, just met him a half a year ago; Frank and Nico I've known for some time."

Harry felt very small, "How do you do?"

"Fine," all of them chorused.

Ron introduced himself for the first time, "My name's Ron Weasley."

"Nice to meet you," Percy said, and he shook Ron's outstretched hand. "Guys," Percy looked back at his group, "this is Harry and Hermione. Hermione, this is Frank, the muggleborn."

Hermione said 'hi' politely, and then asked the question Harry had been wondering the whole time but had been too nervous to voice it.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Harry looked sideways at her for moment, a little surprised, but she just shrugged. "They weren't here last night, so that either means they broke in, which I don't think is possible, or they are part of the Order."

Percy looked taken aback for a second and then with a lopsided grin said, "At least someone in here is wary of strangers; I was beginning to wonder how any of you have survived this long, knowing your history. You should always be wary of people who refuse to give their purpose and meaning."

The way Percy said that put shivers down Harry's spine, sort of like, _You've better be wary, because slitting your throat seems like such an easy job._

"We are from the A.H. Magical School for Advanced Pupils and Honorary Students in Britain. That's about as specific as I can give you of our school's wear bouts. For what we're doing here, I'm afraid that's classified information; the shortest version is that we're coming to study at Hogwarts and learn from Dumbledore for however many years we have left in school. For me, that's two," Percy sounded relieved at the prospect of only two more years.

"I'm — "

With practically no warning, Percy's eyes rolled into the back of his head, he collapsed half on the couch with a dull thud. His head lolled back and his eyes were painfully squeezed shut.

Leo gave a small yelp as Percy fell, doing exactly what Harry felt like doing.

Harry cast a bewildered look at Percy's friends for a diagnostics. All three boys looked completely surprised and on the edge of panicking, none said, "Oh, this is normal for him," which probably would have freaked out Harry more.

Nico and Frank immediately rushed up to support Percy and lay him on the couch. "What in the gods is happening to him!" Nico said harshly. "What's happening to him!"

Harry was sure worried about him and he didn't even know the guy.

Hermione snaked out her hand and waved it in front of Percy's eyes, "Percy," she called softly. "Percy Jackson? What's wrong with him!"

Percy started shivering. At first, it was just a mild quake, but it grew to be constant rocking, shaking and shivering.

"It burns…" Percy moaned in a low voice, "like fire everywhere, like…" Percy seemed scared to say the next part, he hesitated, "li – like down _there."_ He whispered dangerously, teetering over the edge of unforgivable words. He started squirming like a snake.

The other Three all looked uneasily at each other. Nico looked freaked out, he started shaking Percy, "Percy, Percy, it's okay, you're not _there_," Nico's voice cracked on the last word. "I'll never let you go there again, I swear it!"

Percy practically screamed at Nico's touch, he let go, looking like a slapped child.

"Wait, what does he mean by, 'down there'?" Harry asked.

"A bad fire he went through," Nico said, concealing more than explaining.

Harry could relate, fires were one of his hatreds, fire tore everything apart, fire destroyed every family.

"Why is he shivering, if he's burning hot?" Ron asked, clueless.

Nico's annoyed voice rose with every word, "To him, the heat is probably overloading his senses, and we don't know anything about what's going on! He could be dying and we wouldn't even know!"

Percy's next words made Harry cringe, awakening some kind of protective spirit he didn't know he had, "She's dying! Somebody help me! She's dying! Gods help me! DON'T TAKE HER HADES!"

For a moment, Harry was to stunned to do anything, but with a jolt he came back to his senses and sharply called, "Hermione, is there anything about this in one of those books you read?"

"I am not the only one in the world who reads books, Harry, and if I knew, I wouldn't just be standing here!" She snapped back crossly.

Right after Hermione spoke Percy seemed to relax slightly, his shakes slowly evaporating into small jars. His green eyes were pried open carefully like unwelcoming doors; clouded with pain and frustration. He mumbled one last thing, but Harry missed it, hearing 'filter brake," instead of what Percy had actually said.

Percy slid around jerkily and stood up, he ignored the astonished faces and started walking to the bathroom. He was limping slightly, and his left arm was pressed close to his hoodie while being cradled by his right. Everyone else seemed to notice as well, but Harry's voice could be heard above the others, "You're hurt," he said simply, knowing that an injured person usually acted like a broken animal, snapping at any approach.

So Harry's goal was to get close, but let Percy lick his wounds. He trotted over to Percy, put one hand on his shoulder, and lead him to the bathroom. Harry took a look behind him, the rest of the teens looked strangely at him, particularly Nico who looked like he wanted to rush over to help. Frank held him back, barely.

Harry opened the bathroom door and led Percy in, then retreated out.

Harry would give Percy time; time to get over his scars. Why? Because Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Percy was more than he'd said, and knew that without a doubt, that the mysterious boy would be key to his survival.

* * *

He looked in the mirror, his damp black hair hung lifelessly, and his eyes looked defeated. Arms on either side of the basin, yet he could still barely keep himself from collapsing. He stood up straighter, his limp had returned, for how long he had no idea. Hecate had temporarily healed it, though walking now felt like dying.

He studied himself in the mirror, rugged and beat down; though seeing his eyes scared him the most.

They were dead eyes, eyes that wanted death, eyes that were done with life, and ready for beyond. How could he have been reduced to this? One second he was in all of his shining glory, the next, smaller and sadder than ever before.

He looked down at his left arm, the Roman tattoo that had graced his arm in a black was gone, technically still there, but different.

Silver. Not black anymore. Silver. It still looked the same; with two silver lines indicating the years he'd been at Camp Jupiter. But he still stared shocked, thinner silver lines now graced his arm, from his wrist to his shoulder.

_Silver Snakes._

They were not too noticeable, but nonetheless visible — which could cause a problem. He looked closer at them, feeling the marginally raised lines; they caught the light and reflected it back at him.

Somehow he dared to smile back. Then Percy closed his eyes, but with a curse, he immediately opened them again, letting out a small gasp.

The face seemed imprinted on his eyelids. The terrible face, ghastly, snakelike, the person's nose were thin slits, eyes reptilian. It gave Percy a nightmare right there, but despite that, despite the face reminding him of every foe he'd ever faced, he was drawn to it, like a fly to a light. He was drawn to it because he saw someone else behind the ugly face: a shattered soul, someone who was desperate.

He saw a handsome face as well; the same dude but younger, with messy brown hair but with eyes the color of steaming coffee, he looked cunning. Terrible yet beautiful.

He knew this person from his flashback, as he decided to call it. The man had seemingly entered his dreams, but when Percy's arm had burnt like fire the man disappeared.

_He suddenly had slipped unconscious, he knew because he'd been in this place before. The _death_ place, as he'd called it, appearing every time he fell unconscious. He was in a white room, seamless with no cracks in the walls. This was the crossroads, where fire met fire. He could go left, right, or down the middle. 'Left,' he decided, the same path he always picked._

_He willed himself left, floating over the ground; the first time he'd come here he was a bird, a chicken maybe. Now, he was himself, after long times concentrating he morphed into his own body. The left path was dark, no light escaped from the black hole. _

_Falling, suddenly he was falling, no willpower worked for flying, he was falling into an endless abyss. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He landed hard with a thud, little shards of glass cut into his palms. Technically, he was not here, the impact of falling would have killed him, he was but a ghost here, treading on a living man's path and tracer._

_He knew not what to do, but let instinct pull him where it will, as he had with the love. He followed the same path he'd previously taken, always staying meters behind he-who-once-was and she-who-he-shall-not-say, keeping far enough to not be tempted of foolishness, but close enough to admire the love the duo had for each other. He marveled at how they seemed to be so brave together, never faltering in step._

_How he wished to be him._

_Then came the final battle for the two, the last laugh and last breath. Standing on Tartarus's heart, a big ruby like thing, the five rivers of the underworld stood ready for his command. _

_Millions of monsters surrounded the two teens, and then he-who-once-was dropped his sword. He cursed himself, showing weakness was unaffordable at this moment._

_"Begone," Iapetus leveled his spear at the god, "You have no right to meddle!"_

"Meddle?" _Tartarus turned, _"I am the lord of _all_ creatures of the darkness, puny Iapetus. I can do as I please."

_He saw she-who-he-shall-not-say fall to her knees and clutch her ears. Iapetus stumbled; his wispy like force was sucked to the face of the god._

_Iapetus roared in defiance, he charged Tartarus but was nocked aside like a frail leaf. They exchanged words He could recite in his mind._

_"_DESTROY THEM!" _Tartarus yelled, gesturing to the mosters._

_In an instant, he-who-once-was grabbed Riptide, his once oh-so-mighty sword. They started fighting fiercely, he-who-once-was jabbed, spun, and parried. Each slash of his bronze blade ended another monster's life. _

_Then an entire phalanx of Cyclops arose and charged forward, He knew he-who-once-was hated doing this, but with a fierce battle cry erupted a red vain of water from the heart, spraying monsters with the liquid fire of the Phlegethon. _

_He-who-once-was erupted several more veins, but turned his head from the monsters as she-who-he-shall-not-say gave a cry of pain, all thoughts left him in this moment. He started to her, but in an instant he felt a great pain slice into his upper back, a sword from an empousa had just sliced half through his back, only stopping because he had the fortune of it hitting bone. _

_He-who-once-was fell to his knees in an instant while Riptide slipped from his grasp. Bile was rising to his throat; his lungs were slowly filling with blood. A soundless scream rested on his lips._

_"Percy!" Yelled a panicked voice, helping to clear his mind._

_She ran to him, vaulting over monster's heads. She stopped beside him and killed the monster. She grabbed him and assessed his back him. She was silent for a moment; her mind was whirling a thousand kilometers per hour. She became stock still, then hugged him, she whispered, "I love you, know that."_

_Quickly standing up, she grasped his sword, but why?_

_As she started over to Tartarus he understood, he tried to scream at her, telling her it was futile, but it took all of his concentration to keep from fainting. He dodged a sword from a __telekhine, being slowly overwhelmed._

_And then everything exploded in that fragile second, the sword He knew had been thrust downward in Tartarus's heart, over a trillion beings had been slain with that sword, creating a magical buildup that defied all possibilities. In that one instant, the entire sword was destroyed, exploding into millions of fragments for each dead monster. The impact was great, any explosion of a magical substance was increasingly fatal, and that was exactly what Annabeth was aiming for._

_Tartarus himself could not prepare for the blast that the blade created, little indents of celestial bronze stuck in his chest as he was propelled meters backwards, landing in some obsidian rock. She had targeted him, she had destroyed his essence for the time, and explosion of a magical substance was the only way…_

_She staggered towards him, bronze shards impaled everywhere in her, blood was pouring down her face and body, she fell, and somehow he found enough strength to crawl to her. A slightly bleeding Iapetus came quick picked her up, then getting to Percy him as well._

_"__You must leave now," He said with a worrisome expression, Tartarus isn't gone for good, I'll hold the button."_

_He placed the two in the elevator, Percy reached out a hand to stop him, but he firmly pushed it back. "Say hello to the sun and the stars for me. Stay strong, Percy Jackson, the world's fate rests in your hands."_

_Before he could protest, the doors snapped shut, hatred boiled in his stomach. "I will kill Gaia," Percy vowed, "I will tear her apart with my bare hands."_

_Things were happening to quickly, it was all going by before he could even protest!_

_He looked over at Annabeth, tore off her sleeve to try and put pressure on the wounds. He ran a hand up and down her soft hair. He looked down at her, Percy could read her expression, it told him she loved him; that no matter what she'd be with him._

_But he knew a terrible truth, her soul was ripped in pieces, her soul would never be able to go to Elysium, her soul he'd never get to find, again._

_He was forever alone, "AHHHHHH!"_

"Ahh!" Percy let out a hoarse scream, tears were pouring down his cheeks.

He remembered his surroundings, only if…

He hit the wall, hard, and bit his tongue at the pain that raced down his arm. He took a damp cloth and washed his face, trying to let the water rejuvenate him. It partially worked; he became more alert and focused.

But there was still a hole in his heart, destined to remain unfilled…because who was there to fill it?

Not a single _person._

**_May 4, 2015_**

**I know, I know, not the most exciting chapter, but I hope I cleared up some of Percy's backstory.**

**Okay, this original chapter was, like, 7k words, but somehow the document manager wouldn't let me do the whole thing, just a while screen came up, can anyone help? I have to split it in three sections!**

**Poll is still up!**

**Who should he fall in love with?**

**Luna — 4**

**Hermione — 1**

**Cho — 0**

**Ginny — 1 (I vote Ginny secretly)**

**Daphnee Greengrass — 2**

**OC — 1**

**FOREVER ALONE — 7 (I also vote this secretly)**

**Or anyone else you want!**

**R&amp;R**

**:D to you!**

**— Jay**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you everybody who commented, Stars to you! :D**

**This is in fact just a filler chapter, so don't expect much.**

**The next chapter will be out, like in a week and a half.**

**R&amp;R**

**Chapter Five: Before the Hearing**

The door inched open before Harry, slowly creeping outward. All of the adults had rushed in as soon as they had heard Percy's loudest scream.

"I do hope he's alright," Mrs. Weasley spoke in a motherly tone.

Percy stepped out, looking refreshed and balanced. Harry wondered if the Percy in front of them was the same guy who'd just collapsed ten minutes ago. It sure didn't look like it.

"I am sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you, please accept my apologies," Percy said cordially.

Mrs. Weasley looked flustered, "There's nothing to apologize about…"

Sirius picked up, "Are you okay, kid?"

"Fine, Percy replied shortly.

"Has this happened before?" Nico asked.

"Not like this," Percy muttered.

"So it _has_ happened," Frank spoke, "When were you going to tell us?"

"No offense guys, but my personal life is still personal." Percy retorted.

Mrs. Weasley, sensing the tension in the air said, "Why don't we all go and have breakfast; we can discuss this later. Remember Harry, today is your hearing."

* * *

"What do you want, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley called. "Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?"

"Just — just toast, thanks," said Harry.

Lupin glanced at Harry, and then said to Tonks, "What were you saying about Scrimgeour?"

"Oh…yeah…well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions…"

Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. The conversation held a bit of tension, all of them were wondering about Percy, but they all tried their best not to show it.

His insides were squirming. Mrs. Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him; he tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet. Mrs. Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his T-shirt, tucking in the label and smoothing out the creases across his shoulders. He wished she wouldn't.

Harry took a look at Percy, who was eating bacon like there was no tomorrow. On any other day, Harry might've laughed, but today, he was irritated by Percy's foolishness. Ron on the other hand had nothing to hold him back and laughed out loud, spilling his milk that now dribbled down his chin.

Mrs. Weasley let out a disapproving cluck, "Ron, get cleaned up, we have no time for dilly-dallying."

He gave a stiff 'yes ma'am,' but continued to gawk at Percy.

"Chill, Perce," Leo murmured out of a corner of his mouth.

"What?" Percy asked defensively, "I haven't eaten in, like, six weeks." Everyone turned to stare at him, including his own party. Sitting to his left, Nico nudged him hard in the left arm. Gasping in pain for some reason, Percy then said, "Uh, did I say weeks? I meant six hours…"

The other Three boys looked at each other and simultaneously burst into fake laughs.

Sirius and Lupin studied Percy for a moment; who steadily held both of their gazes. In Harry's opinion, Percy seemed to just exude goodness. The fact that Sirius and Lupin thought him a possible liar just made Harry more wary of some kind of trickery.

"…and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t — t — too tired," Tonks broke the silence, yawning hugely again.

"I'll cover for you," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm OK, I've got a report to finish anyway."

"I like your jacket, Mr. Weasley," Percy commented, eying the jacket.

Mr. Weasley was not wearing wizards' robes as usual, but a pair of pinstriped trousers and an old bomber jacket. "Thank you!" Mr. Weasley said excitedly, "Not to many wizards appreciate muggle things. You're an unusual lad."

He then turned from Percy to Harry.

"How are you feeling?'

Harry shrugged.

"It'll all be over soon," Mr. Weasley said bracingly. "In a few hours' time you'll be cleared."

Harry said nothing.

"The hearings on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you."

"Amelia Bones is OK, Harry," said Tonks earnestly. "She's fair, she'll hear you out."

Harry just nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.

"Don't lose your temper," said Sirius abruptly. "Be polite and stick to the facts."

_Like _you_ ever do that._

But Harry only nodded again.

"The law's on your side," said Lupin quietly. "Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations."

Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck; for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realized that Mrs. Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head.

'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately.

Before Harry could shake his head no, someone was already talking, they snorted; "Of course not."

Mr. Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry. "I think we'll go now," he said. "We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here."

"OK," said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet.

"You'll be all right, Harry," said Tonks, palling him on the arm.

"Good luck," said Lupin. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"And if it's not," said Sirius grimly, "I'll see to Amelia Bones for you…"

Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him.

"We've all got our fingers crossed," she said.

"Right," said Harry. "Well…see you later then."

Harry then noticed Percy getting up from his breakfast and putting his jacket on.

"What do you thing your doing?" Sirius snapped at Percy who just ignored him. "You can't go, not if I can't."

Percy turned around to look at Sirius, "With all due respect, Dumbledore's right, you going could potentially cause a disaster. Think for a moment, if they figure out who you are, bye, bye Harry. They'll send him off as a traitor. _I'm_ going for my own reasons."

Percy took a look at his group, "Meet in Diagon Alley after the Hearing, we need to get school supplies."

They all murmured their consent.

Harry and Percy then followed Mr. Weasley upstairs and along the hall. He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. Mr. Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn.

"You don't normally walk to work, do you?" Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square.

"No, I usually Apparate," said Mr. Weasley, "but obviously you can't."

"_I _can," Percy muttered softly.

Mr. Weasley barely missed a stride, accepting the raven haired boy, " — and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion…makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for…"

As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr. Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm.

"Simply fabulous," he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. "Wonderfully ingenious."

"They're out of order," said Harry, pointing at the sign.

"Yes, but even so…" said Mr. Weasley, beaming at them fondly.

They bought their tickets instead from a sleepy-looking guard (Harry handled the transaction, as Mr. Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the center of London.

"Four more stops, Harry…Three stops led now…Two stops to go, Harry…"

Percy got a slightly annoyed look in his eyes, "Please stop, you're pressuring Harry."

They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went, through the ticket barrier (Mr. Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings and already full of traffic.

"Where are we?" Said Mr. Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr. Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, "Ah yes…this way," and led them down a side road.

"Sorry," he said, "but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I've never even used the visitors' entrance before."

The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip.

"Here we are," said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. "After you, Harry, Percy."

He opened the telephone-box door.

Harry then Percy stepped inside, both wondering what on earth this was about. Mr. Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. With just two of them there, it would have been a tight fit, but with three it was practically an impossible fit. Harry was staring at Percy's hair, who was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr. Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver.

"Mr. Weasley, I think this might be out of order, too," Harry said.

"No, no, I'm sure its fine," said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. "Let's see…six…" he dialed the number, "two…four…and another four…and another two…"

As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.

'"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Percy was grinning madly, "See!" He gestured to Harry, "name and business."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that graced his face.

"Er…" said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing…"

"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with _Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing_ on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as Percy snickered at him, "Behold the Great Harry Potter and his badge of shame!"

"Shut up," Harry shot back.

Then the female voice spoke again, "Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all.

_The sea does not like to be restrained_; spoke something in his mind suddenly.

Harry unintentionally jumped, he thought hard, _What?! _There was no answer, but Harry continued to listen hard.

They were back up, "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the woman's voice.

The door of the telephone box sprang open and they all stepped out, Harry whose mouth had fallen open, gawked at the place.

They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh.

Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all locking adoringly up at the witch and wizard.

Percy snorted noticing the statue, "That's so stupid."

Harry agreed, glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators' and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

"This way," said Mr. Weasley.

They joined the throng. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES.

_If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons,_ Harry found himself thinking desperately.

"Over here, Harry, Percy" said Mr. Weasley. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying 'Security,' a badly-shaven wizard sat.

"I'm escorting two visitors," said Mr. Weasley, gesturing towards Harry and Percy.

"Step over here," said the wizard in a bored voice.

Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back, and then did Percy.

"Wand," grunted the security wizard coming from Percy and putting down the golden instrument, he held out his hand.

Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?"

"Yes," said Harry nervously.

"I keep this," said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. "You get this back," he added, thrusting the wand at Harry.

"Thank you."

"Hang on…" said the wizard slowly.

His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead.

"Thank you, Eric," said Mr. Weasley firmly, and grasping Harry by the shoulder, he moved Harry behind him.

"You're up next, sonny," the wizard spoke to Percy.

"Uh, you see," Harry could tell Percy was thinking on his feet, "My school specializes in wandless magic, so I'm not getting my wand 'till later."

The wizard stared at him momentarily, "And what school do you go to?"

"A.H Magical School for Advanced Pupils and Honorary Students," Percy replied smoothly.

"I've never heard of that school, sonny."

"So?" Percy challenged. "That doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

Then the wizard got a slightly dreamy tone, "Oh that school," and then added, "sonny."

Mr. Weasley grasped Percy's shoulder and steered both of them away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates.

The golden grille slid back and Harry and Mr. Weasley stepped into the lift with the rest of the crowd and Harry found himself jammed against the back wall. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously, but more stared at Percy, confused. Harry stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. She listed the seventh floor's departments.

The lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced the sixth level departments.

Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings.

"Just inter-departmental memos," Mr. Weasley muttered to him. "We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable…droppings all over the desks."

The woman read of the fifth floor.

When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it.

And again, she read the fourth floor, then the third.

Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr. Weasley, Harry, Percy, and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the floor.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."

"This is us, boys," said Mr. Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. "My office is on the other side of the floor."

"Mr. Weasley," said Harry, as they passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, "aren't we still underground?"

"Yes, we are," said Mr. Weasley. "Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decides what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise… Just round here, guys."

They followed, Harry noted a lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters.

Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Morning, Weasley," said Kingsley carelessly, as they drew nearer; he stared at Percy a moment before dismissing him. "I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?"

"Yes, if it really is a second," said Mr. Weasley, "I'm in rather a hurry."

They were talking as though they hardly knew each other and when Harry opened his mouth to say hello to Kingsley, Mr. Weasley stood on his foot. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle.

Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs — even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding — papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels.

"Here," said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand. "I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We've received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle."

Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, "Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting." Then he said in normal tones, "And don't take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month."

"If you had read my report you would know that the term is firearms," said Mr. Weasley coolly. "And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles; we're extremely busy at the moment." He dropped his voice and said, "If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs."

Mr. Weasley led them out of Kingsley's cubicle and through a series of passages to a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading: Misuse of Muggle Artifacts.

Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr. Weasley's obsessions: several posters of cars, including one of a dismantled engine; two illustrations of postboxes he seemed to have cut out of Muggle children's books; and a diagram showing how to wire a plug.

"Have a seat, guys, it doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet."

Harry squeezed himself into the chair behind Perkins's desk while Mr. Weasley riffled through the sheaf of parchment Kingsley Shacklebolt had given him. Percy remained standing, disturbed.

"Ah," Mr. Weasley said, grinning, as he extracted a copy of a magazine entitled The Quibbler from its midst, "yes…" He flicked through it. "Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing."

Mr. Weasley read for a moment.

Then, a stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair entered the room, panting.

"Harry, this is Perkins," Mr. Weasley spoke.

"Oh, Arthur!" he said desperately, without looking at Harry or Percy. "Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not. I've just sent an owl to your home but you've obviously missed it — an urgent message came ten minutes ago. It's the Potter boy's hearing — they've changed the time and venue — it starts at eight o'clock now and it's down in old Courtroom Ten — '

"Down in old — but they told me — Merlin's beard!"

Mr. Weasley looked at his watch, let out a yelp and leapt from his chair.

"Quick, we should have been there five minutes ago!"

Perkins flattened himself against the filing cabinets as Mr. Weasley left the office at a run, both boys close on his heels.

"Why have they changed the time?" Harry said breathlessly, as they hurtled past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as they streaked past. Harry felt as though he'd felt all his insides back at Perkins's desk.

"I've no idea, but thank goodness we got here so early, if you'd missed it, it would have been catastrophic!"

"It's to make you look bad," Percy said as if it was obvious, "they aren't on your side, they want you to fail."

"Come ON!"

The lift clattered into view and they hurried inside. Every time it stopped Mr. Weasley cursed furiously and pummeled the number nine button.

"Those courtrooms haven't been used in years," said Mr. Weasley angrily. "If it really is what Percy thinks, you're in even more trouble than we thought, Harry."

A plump witch carrying a smoking goblet entered the lift at that moment, and Mr. Weasley did not elaborate.

"The Atrium," said the cool female voice and the golden grilles slid open, showing Harry a distant glimpse of the golden statues in the fountain.

"Quick, Harry," said Mr. Weasley as the lift doors rattled open, and they sped up a corridor that was quite different from those above. There was one set of doors, Harry expected them to go through it, but instead Mr. Weasley seized him by the arm and dragged him to the left, where there was an opening leading to a flight of steps.

"Down here, down here," panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. "The lift doesn't even come down this far…why they're doing it down there I…"

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to the one that led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets.

Mr. Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest.

"Go on," he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. "Get in there."

"Aren't — aren't you coming with us — ?"

"No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!"

Harry's heart was beating a violent tattoo against his Adams apple. He swallowed hard and looked towards Percy, who gave him a thumbs up. With a new boost of confidence, Harry turned the heavy iron door handle and stepped inside the courtroom.

**Yes, yes, this is a filler chapter, not meant to bring you to tears or be in awe of the tons of action, I know… *Sigh**

**Question 1: Do you guys mind telling me jokes, puns, and other ridiculous things that Leo might say? (Mine would most likely be really lame)  
**

* * *

**Question 2: Should Nico fall in love, and with who?  
**

* * *

**Question 3: Percy's Poll, plz vote! And just because your person doesn't win, I might still have them date!  
**

**Luna — 6  
**

**Hermione — 3  
**

**Ginny — 1 (I vote Ginny secretly)**

**Daphnee Greengrass — 3  
**

**OC — 2  
**

**FOREVER ALONE — 14 (I also vote this secretly)**

**Or anyone else you want! (This poll will closed in, like, seven chapters)  
**

**(Just because these questions are on here does not mean that you have to answer all of them or even any, I just want you all to be involved in this story as much as you can!)**

**R&amp;R**

**:D to you!**

**— Jay**


	6. Chapter 6

**How do you all do?**

**Shout out to the following people: ****_Guest User, kmt, CelestialGoddessFT, _****_PeterPanIsBae_****_, _****_, gueST-SAN, Guest, Hi, Guest, bubbles-and-books, The Ritzerizer, _****_ 1999_****_, Kate, WilliamCarstairs_**, **for their super awesome reviews! Each of you deserves some cookies! (Not the virtual kind or tracking kind fanfiction uses to know everything about you…) BUT REAL COOKIES. **

**or cake if you prefer that…I guess.**

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**Enjoy this chapter!**

**Chapter Six: The Hearing**

The doors opened slowly, adding to the intended intensity of the room itself. Percy, being impulsive, stepped lightly in front of Harry and treaded towards the two chairs where the defense group would stand. The pitter-patter of his shoes was the lonesome noise of the dungeon.

Harry was a little confused by this, had Percy been to court before? Harry didn't think that was a good sign. He silently counted the seconds left he'd have with his wand.

Percy himself took in a moment to look around the room, with high arches made of dark stone and lit by few torches the dungeon looked horribly familiar. Horribly. He shivered and rubbed his arms, mentally panicking when he felt invisible chains wrap slowly across his arms. Percy closed his eyes and reminded himself that there were indeed no chains. Just a shadow of a fragment of memory he had yet to place down.

Something within in his soul stirred with discomfort, that something disliked this place monumentally.

He looked up at the prosecutors, noting their facial expressions and simple body language. Percy reached in the left pocket of the jeans that were under the robes he'd borrowed from Harry, feeling the glass vial and remembering the willow tree branch that he'd left in his trunk. The vial of Mist gave him a momentary relief from this situation, and just remembering the stick helped sooth him. Percy had memorized the little engravings on the sick; drawing up the picture in his mind he saw how one spiral fluidly flowed into the next.

Percy remained confused on how the leaves had remained green and flush, magic, the only possibility, gave him a headache just thinking about.

A harsh male voice rang across the courtroom vibrating through the multiple arches. "You're late."

"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I — I didn't know the time had changed."

Percy watched Harry stutter with a small smile; _Props to you, Harry Potter, always stand up for your rights._

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."

Percy had to restrain himself from leaping off his seat and tearing that smug smile off of Cornelius Fudge's face. Hecate had told him all about the excuse for a man, Percy didn't think his opinion of Fudge could sink any farther. He was wrong.

Harry, still standing at the door, began to walk to his seat. Percy saw the chains threaten to bind Harry, but they restrictedly remained in their rightful region.

A square shaped headed witch with cropped grey hair sat to Fudge's left; she wore a monocle and looked as if to not invite further questioning. On Fudge's right was another witch who was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in steely shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice that Percy knew belonged to a young Wizard named Percy. He had seen the name on Mrs. Weasley's great clock and immediately knew him as one of her children. Percy Weasley's eyes, behind his great horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand. Besides having their names the same, Percy Jackson could tell that both Percys' shared something else. How could he describe it? A burning passion of ambition, a wish to be greater than what people thought of them…

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Weasley began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"

"— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, along with Perseus Rydall Jackson" said a quiet voice from behind Percy, who turned his head like a whiplash.

Dumbledore strode serenely across the room, he had donned on long midnight blue robes, and wore a perfectly at ease look — the opposite of what Percy knew Harry had upon his face. His eyes gave a bright twinkle, casting it's spell among the room.

All of the Wizengamot stared hard at Dumbledore. Some looked irritated, some on the verge of tearing out; the ones that made Percy Jackson smile were he ones that gave Dumbledore a bright smile and wave. He loved old people, especially old women who gave out lots of candy whenever he asked.

Percy Jackson could see the hope blooming on Harry's face; Dumbledore was obviously Harry's hero. Percy himself couldn't help feeling safe around Dumbledore.

More people stared at Percy, though, making him squirm in his pants. Percy Weasley only took a moment to assess him, apparently the slight disapproving duck of Weasley's head meant that the slightly older boy did not approve of Jackson. Jackson couldn't care less.

The other people's stares did bother him, and their reactions even more so. Wizards kept looking between him and Harry, Fudge himself hadn't closed his mouth since the arrival of Dumbledore and it remained agape as he stared at Percy.

"Ah," said Fudge, who squirmed as if _he_ had ants in his pants. "Dumbledore. Yes. You — er — got our — er — message that the time and — er — place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I — Weasley, could you —?"

"No, not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore; he pulled out his wand from under his robes and with a delicate flick of his wrist produced a plush squashy armchair that appeared out of no where next to Percy Jackson. Dumbledore sat down, and put rested the tips of his long fingers together. With a look of polite interest, he gazed at Fudge. Percy would have giving several drachmas to know what Dumbledore was thinking. There was probably a spell for that, but studying wasn't his cliché.

The Wizengamot was still muttering, all but a few gave Percy, Harry, and Dumbledore the evil eye. Only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

"Now, the charges."

* * *

Percy hadn't gone to sleep yet, which was an accomplishment in his book. He had managed to zone completely out, though, and he was pretty sure everybody knew about it. _Disrespectful, lazy,_ he was positive most the wizards and witches would enclose him in this category — too bad. He yawned loudly, attracting even more stares.

It wasn't that he necessarily didn't want to listen, he was just bored out of his mind, and the ADHD wasn't helping at all. Everyone was yelling at each other, his family was too much like that for him to actually join in. He hated how his family acted around each other, but it was impossible to quench. Percy perked his head back up as Dumbledore began to speak, he was the only one that didn't make the seventeen year old boy start drowning in boredom.

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August!" said Dumbledore. "Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself."

That was a lot of words… Scratch that, Dumbledore needed a smaller vocabulary — minuscule.

"Laws can be changed," said Fudge savagely, he looked ready to start tearing somebody in two.

"Of course they can," said Dumbledore, inclining his head in acceptance. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

A few nameless wizards above Percy began muttering and shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Fudge himself became a lovely puce color, which looked disgusting, his face contorted with both anger and embarrassment. The toadlike witch on his right, however, merely gazed at Dumbledore, her face quite expressionless, yet Percy perceived an unspoken anger that threatened to break loose.

"As far as I am aware, however," Dumbledore continued, "there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offense and he has presented his defense. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict."

Percy looked at all the judges; they continued to mutter between themselves for quite a while. He heard snippets of conversation, "No, that boy deserves all the animosity he can get!" "He's just a lad, spare him some feelings!" "I say let him go."

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" said Madam Bones's booming voice; she seemed to startle all the Wizengamot.

Harry's head jerked upward, as did Percy Jackson's. There were hands in the air, many of them…more than half of them! Percy quickly counted…Harry was free! "And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge raised his hand along with half a dozen others, including the toad witch on his right.

Fudge glanced around at them all, doing the math himself. He was looking as though there was something very large stuck in his esophagus, he then lowered his own hand. He took two very deep breaths and then said, in a voice distorted and compressed by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well…cleared of all charges."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand, and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. "Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all. Percy Jackson," he looked serenely at the boy, "the center is the key."

And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.

Harry couldn't believe it; he kept pinching himself to make sure it was real. The red marks on his pale arms stood out like the chicken pox's. They were uncomfortable, but they showed the truth, and the truth showed he was free!

Percy Jackson walked up to him with a genuine smile on his face, "Great job, I knew you'd get out!"

With an unknown word, Percy healed his arm. Harry stared at him for a moment, "It was just a red mark, and it would've gone away in, like, thirty seconds."

"Yes," Percy agreed, "but I'm in a rather good mood, and I needed to try out a new spell." He gave Harry a lopsided grin, "Besides, I have a feeling you would have kept pinching yourself for the better part of the day."

"Touché…but thanks anyway. They probably could have set you up your own trial."

"Yeah, but I don't have a wand yet, and like they'd ever be able to catch me." Percy offered Harry his hand, but in a moment of excitement, Harry ignored the outstretched hand and pulled the older boy into an unexpected hug.

—

Percy was definitely surprised. He'd known Harry for approximately five hours, and the kid had already pegged him as an older brother. It felt good though, and Percy couldn't help smiling and embracing the kid as well. He understood that, as well, that Harry could be something to make him smile, Harry could be his brother.

Two things inside of his soul stirred, one was glad he was embracing Harry Potter, and the other was silently urging him to tear the kid apart.

* * *

"Guys! What's nine plus ten?"

"Shut up, Leo!" They had heard the joke, (or whatever it was) a million times —all courtesy of the Repair Boy. It had definitely lost its spark since the first time Leo had told it. The first time Frank had repeatedly smacked his head against the _Spells of this Day and Unknown Age _book he was reading.

Percy gave a happy laugh, though, because the mood just felt right. For some reason, some incredibly unknown reason, he felt as if the burden of sadness and anger was lifted from his back for the first time in ages. It was an unexplainable feeling.

"Twenty-one!" Percy laughed; he gave his group a group hug.

He saw Harry standing awkwardly to the side, and with a gut-jerk reaction pulled Harry into the hug as well.

"You're crushing my spleen!" Leo gasped out, "Hold it back, man, we all know how much you bro-love us!"

Percy ignored the smirk on Leo's face, "Anyone ready to get a wand?"

He listened to all Four say yes and brought out his supply list. Glancing at it, he memorized with little effort.

It said:

_Sixth Years_

_Books:_

_Advanced Potion-Making__by Libatius Borage (Potions)_

_Making the Most of Ancient Runes__by Dava Sobel (Runes)_

_Advanced Arithmancy__by Peter Heeden (Arithmancy)_

_The Heavens__by Newton Appropos (Astronomy)_

_Beyond XXX__by Alistair Cander (COMC)_

_Standard Book of Spells Grade 6__by Miranda Goshawk (Charms)_

_Samson Wiblin's When Your Wand Won't Work Newly Translated for the General_

_Public__by Mr. E Lima (DADA) __***Special Order rush shipping may be required***_

_Seeing the Unseeable__by Arthur Feilding (Divinations)_

_Cultivating Your Garden__by Hortence Appleby (Herbology)_

_Wizarding History in the Muggle World__by Ethan Waldon (History of Magic)_

_The Philosophy of the Mundane: Why Muggles Prefer Not to Know by Professor Mordicus Egg (Muggle Studies)_

_Advanced Transfiguration__by Emeric Switch (Transfiguration)_

_Other Equipment:_

_3 Packages of parchment (100 sheets per package) _

_2 packages of vellum (3 sheets per package) _

_Set of 4 quills_

_Extra large pewter cauldron _

_Refill of potion ingredients including sixth year pack_

And there was one last note from Dumbledore.

_Mr. Jackson do not forget to go by Ollivanders and get a wand_

— _Dumbledore_

He saw the three others scanning their supply list and looked at Harry. Harry mouthed: _Mrs. Weasley is getting my books._

"I believe we should go to the Gringotts Bank, correct, Harry?" Percy checked with Harry to make sure.

"Of course," Harry said, "You can't buy anything otherwise… Haven't you been to Gringotts before?"

"Nope," Leo whistled.

"In our old school, we used a solid gold currency that our fathers provided for us. All the school supplies were already at the school, anyway." Percy hoped to clarify why his group might've had it backwards. Questions were a dangerous thing, and Mr. Potter just seemed to be brimming with them. Percy wanted to quench that thirst before it began.

"I'll show you the Leaky Cauldron, it's a famous place. This is where most people buy their supplies." Harry said.

It was a tiny, dirt-ridden looking pub. If Harry hadn't pointed it out to Percy, he most likely would have missed the whole place and labeled it as a place to avoid. There were many people hurrying down the street connecting to the Leaky Cauldron, they all looked grim, eyes downcast. Amazingly, none of them so even glanced in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Percy had an accurate suspicion only wizards could see it.

For such a famous place, it was very dark and shabby looking. Percy then spotted something that made his blood run cold. He panicked and stopped walking abruptly as he watched three old women knit gigantic socks.

"Percy…" Nico muttered.

_No!_

The lady on the right knitted a teal green pair of socks, the lady on the right knitted an ebony brown pair.

Instead of being clueless when they lady in middle snipped the yarn, Percy Jackson understood with a terrible knowledge: the truth. Why would they show him this? Wasn't his destiny all ready over? How could Percy Jackson survive another war? No! He was done fighting his destiny.

All four demigods felt the same sense of forbearing while Harry turned bewildered at what was happening. The Four stared fixedly at the _Fate_ in the middle, as she took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long bladed, like shears.

They looked straight at Percy Jackson, their faces neither moved a fraction of a centimeter nor betrayed their inner most thoughts. Percy stared back; he would _not_ be intimidated.

He stifled his breath, though, when the middle Fate cut the teal green thread. Percy knew he was somehow connected to this green pair in a terrible way, yet he was not at all terrified of what could happen. He felt unspeakable sadness, but refused to dwell on it.

When the ebony string was cut, in comparison, it felt like a sucker punch to his gut, his mind's eye was screaming at him. In a blink of an eye he was gasping for his breath and his eyes were tearing up with pain. Whose life-string was this? Why was it affecting him? How could he complete this mission if everything in this world hurt his soul even more?

* * *

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Harry said as if he was introducing two people.

"Nice to meet you," Leo said with his mouth agape, he turned slowly, mirroring the position of the other demigods.

"This is incredible," Frank stared, probably wondering if he could implement any of the building style into New Rome.

There were tons of stores; Percy spotted the Eeylops Owl Emporium, which gave him small shudders, bookstores, cauldron shops like The Un-Leaky Cauldron, and many more. Percy wished for eight more sets of eyes just so he could see everything.

"Right," Percy tore his eyes from the amazingness of it all, "Gringotts."

"Were here… Just a precaution, don't steal _anything." _Harry told them albeit glumly.

The group had reached a snowy white building that dwarfed the shops around it. Standing next to the bronze doors of the bank was a creature Percy could recognize from the fountain next to the Ministry, a goblin.

"That's a goblin, if you didn't know," Harry told them, "they run Gringotts."

"Oh," was apparently all Leo could manage.

Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words neatly engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

Percy reread the sign again, feeling ice run up his silver streaked arm.

They entered the bank, where Harry said, "These four would like a withdrawal from their family safe."

"Do you have a key?" The goblin asked.

Harry looked at Percy, who shook his head. "Sorry, I've never been here, but the Principal at my school said our ancient family left us our fortunes."

The goblin stared at Percy for a moment, "Of course, Mr. Perseus Rjaksen, I believe I shall skip formalities and take you straight to my office. Potter will stay here, but the rest of your kind may come as well."

Percy looked at Harry who shook his head, "I don't have any other choice, Harry."

"We'll be fine." Frank assured.

And with that, Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo, Frank Zhang, and Leo Valdez were swept from the room.

He could tell they had separated himself from his Mates. He could no longer hear Frank's slightly heavy breathing or smell Leo's 'natural cologne' as Leo himself called it. In Percy's opinion, Leo just plain smelled bad.

Percy saw a light at the end of the dark hall he was walking down, and was pushed into it roughly.

"Sit," said a goblin sitting on the other side of the table. Percy sat.

"My name is Histshot."

"That's cool." Percy said in an even tone, he kept it that way as to not betray anything.

The goblin looked even more displeased. "Mr. Rjaksen, I understand that you don't have a key to your vault. There are many ways to bypass that, give a string of your heart, cut of a limb, unfortunately…" the goblin got up close to Percy's face and maliciously whispered in his scratchy voice, "I need you blood, that is the easiest of methods, however maybe not for you."

"I — I…" Percy stuttered, was this how he'd finally reveal his secret to his friends?

"Fine." Percy said, "but if you double cross me I swear to the gods…" He left his threat open.

Histshot smiled gruesomely, but Percy could feel the goblin approved of him. Histshot reached under his desk and brought out a silver dagger. "This dagger was forged by us goblins, we like to call the metal Salazar Silver, for Salazar."

Once again icy pains raced through and over his left arm. The dagger was beautiful, silver with an underlying glow of blood red.

"Five drops should do." Histshot said as he pulled another thing from under his desk.

Percy stared at a blank sheet of slightly yellow parchment. He tried swallowing and it felt like dry wool had gagged him. He gestured towards the sheet, not trusting his voice.

"Be my guest," Histshot handed Percy the dagger blade first.

Percy eyed it, and in one fluid moment tightly pinched both sides of the dagger and flipped it twice in the air. He caught it by the hilt as it came down, and smiled at Histshot. "No. Be _my_ guest."

Percy grasped the blade in his left hand, as he had a sinking suspicion the left arm would refuse to be cut. He made one cut about five centimeters from his wrist. The cool metal sliced precisely, made no jagged strikes, and instantly made his hand go numb. He sheathed the dagger and hid it on the inside of his shirt. He squeezed his arm enough so five, immortal gold diamonds fell to the parchment. This was his lie.

Percy watched in amazement as the five diamonds fell to the paper in seemingly slow motion. As they hit the parchment, they started sprouting, making golden lines, golden words…

He spotted his name as the first words to clearly appear, _Perseus Rydall Jackson_ was written in calligraphy that made his head spin. Two lines spiked off from his name, Poseidon, and Sally Jackson. Percy followed up his mom's side of the family; his mom's father was unrecognizable, taking the shape of letter-less words. He quickly noticed how that the rest of his grandfather's family was impossible to read.

_My whole family…_

Histshot was staring at him; he cleared his throat and said, "You are, who I thought you were. You are a prince, you are a wizard; you are a pureblood."

Percy stared at him in turn, "What does this little stunt prove?" He asked.

"You do not have a key to your family vault, correct?" Histshot clarified. "No, well this parchment is enchanted to show the linage of a person, thus bypassing knowing the exact vault number and owing a key that might've been lost in several wars." He pointed to the bottom portion of the paper, "These are your vaults, vaults as in plural because you are the combination of many huge houses."

Percy read the paper out loud, "Heir to Rjaksen family claim."

"Your mother's mother's family name, their primary house was Ravenclaw…you are the only one left of this house."

"Poseidon's claim… what's he doing here!" Percy was slightly shocked.

"This is where he met your mother, and as Hecate basically owns the wizarding world, all of the gods and goddesses have some sort of vault…you may go into this vault, as Hecate herself allows."

"This is the last one," Percy said, "Salazar Slytherin's partial claim as youngest descendant."

"Yes," the goblin looked agitated now, "you are the descendant of one of the great houses! …Which one shall you pick? You must get your money from one." The goblin lied about what he said next, but he wanted to test this Percy Jackson — make him chose where his loyalties would lie, so with a crooked smile, he stood up and said, "You must only choose one."

Percy knew he was at a cross road, deny his father, deny his mother…embrace himself… His voice was quavery, but he strengthened it, "Slytherin."

* * *

"I will tend to your arm," The goblin was somehow in a rather good move with him, and with a flick of his hand, healed Percy's arm.

"Thanks." Percy said flatly, not in the mood to talk.

Histshot lead him through the bank to his own vault. When they got there, Percy had to squint to see the somehow massive doors that kept eluding him. He looked back at Histshot, who just smiled, "You do not have a key! How will you open it? I cannot do it!" The goblin seemed to be testing him.

Percy got closer to the silver doors that sparkled rather darkly, he felt the groves, and took special note of the central one. With a triumphant smile, he suddenly knew what to do.

He nocked.

The slow doors slowly opened, making him wait in anticipation. But when the doors were open, he could see nothing. No galleons, sickles, or knuts in sight in the spacious room. He was slightly angry, by now; he had no time for foolishness. He raged in his head, _I have claim to this vault, I am the descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and I own this!_

That did the trick, in milliseconds; he was staring at a room filled with gold, silver, and bronze coins. He had eaten orphanage food for the majority of his life, and seeing all this made him wonder about how his life had he been as a wizard. He filled his bag with galleons, took a handful of sickles, and ignored the knuts completely. As he walked out, he noticed something — a sword. It was translucent, the crossgaurd silver. Double edged like Riptide, instead of emitting a glow, it did as Thalia's shield did and stroke terror in people's hearts — except for him.

He grasped the sword, and with a _shink _pulled it out from the stone beneath it. He had an accurate assumption that Histshot had placed it there for him to find, and it strategically worked. The sword felt natural in his hand, it felt like riptide.

As he passed Histshot, he offered the goblin his hand, which he shook rather surprised. "You are a good person… that sword is a gift from me, forged by my ancestors for yours. I will not need it back like most of my kind do; it is now forever yours. I give it to you as a sign of friendship, and of what is to come."

**_May 28, 2015_**

**Hi'ya!**

**So in this chapter, you should have learned something about Percy Jackson, so kudos to you if you got it.**

**ALSO: Okay, I get that the genre is not romance, but I'm still going to be juggling Harry's relationships as well…**

**(And this will definitely ****_not_**** be a sappy romantic story; I just want all the fictional characters to be happy)**

**WARNING: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER FOR YOUR VOTE CONCERNING PERCY JACKSON TO COUNT, USE IT WISELY AND REVIEW!**

**Percy's Poll**

**Luna —12**

**Hermione — 3**

**Ginny — Me, so 1**

**Daphnee Greengrass — 3**

**OC — 2**

**FOREVER ALONE —19**

**(The poll I started for Nico is currently on hold, but if you have already voted I am still counting you in it!)**

**I have been inspired! Last chapter I asked for jokes and puns and all that jazz, and that is STILL welcome, but I have been inspired to come up with my own (However dreadful they might be) jokes.**

**Peace :D**

**—****Jay Knight**


	7. Chapter 7

**I cordially give you permission to rant at me... I haven't updated in over half a year... HALF A YEAR! (8 months, to be more exact) I am sooooooo sorry, and even though no excuse can make up for this loss, some of this chapter was deleted and I kinda got mad at it and lost my spirit. That being said, I shouldered through and wrote this SUPER long chapter — 8,049+ words, which is double my largest chapter on this site ever. I hope it makes up for some of the wait, because it is basically two chapters crammed into one.  
**

**R&amp;R PLEASE I want to get to one hundred reviews on this chapter...**

_**You are almost as Awesome as Percy Jackson,**_

**Chapter 7**

_In the depths of a great forest sat man on a fallen log. While not visibly old, if one was to look straight into his charcoal eyes they would notice an age impossible to achieve by mortal means. His hair was black, and his eyes like slate, cutting and sharp. His robes were silken purple, laced with golden edges that hid a badly burnt hand, which in turn respectively hid a gnarled wand. Standing across from him was a beautiful woman who was visibly shaking with fear. She had dyed brown hair and vivid eyes that darted around worriedly for fear of the unspoken, fear of the reckless. _

_The third woman was absolutely breathtaking, wrapped in royal garb she looked like a queen herself — she was a queen. Her eyes were slanted ice cycles like those of a cat, and while looked sly and cunning also held unspeakable warmth for humanity. She seemed to be the core of all magic, and not one could defeat her — for she was destruction itself… Safety, danger, she was all. _

_The two women, while not visibly identical, were that of in spirit, not counting moral values. They were fierce and protective; they were lionesses that cared not, but for their cubs. _

_"__I can assure you, the boy will survive." The man said, a twinkle in his indefinitely cold cornea. "Lumos!" He cried, and an orb of light glowed above them both, he adjusted the enchantment to give off heat, for the breezes were strong and the gales thick. _

_The second woman nodded in affirmation, "I have read the signs in the stars, your son will live longer than the Dog Star." _

_The woman nodded carefully, taking it as a good omen. "What about the other one? My heart goes out to all who suffer… All whose destiny encompasses them." The first woman said, protectively. _

_"__So you know about them, then." The old man lost his smile, lost everything about him that made one feel protected. The artificial light dimmed immensely. _

_The woman shivered, as if chilled, "They – She – told me about them…" She looks at the other woman, "She said… she said the only way I could ever meet him was to do this… _thing_." She whispered out the last word. _

_A thoughtful second passed, "They are correct. Only one… with a magnitude of himself… could withstand the force and destruction _it _brings."_

_"__And you will pay the ultimate price," the queen said, her eyes reflective of the moon, "There are things worse than death." _

_"__VITAFURANTURA!"_ A ripping sensation inside the chest, inside the mind, inside the heart of hearts! The most painful thing in the world, like a thousand '_crucio's'_, like the severing of limbs with a jagged knife, like the heat of a thousand suns it _burns,_ it _obliterates, _it _destroys _everything it touches with sores that scream agony with every touch_. "MAKE IT STOP!"_ — suddenly nothing. Everything's black, a peaceful end. But no, blood's everywhere, hands, face, knees… arms… Nothing at all is the same, nothing feels right… Up is down, left is right, good is bad. _Pain is music…_

Destruction is salvation. The lives lost do not matter.

_"__I shall loose my soul?" She choked out._

_The old man looked at the queen for confirmation, and when nodded said, "Perhaps my dear, unfortunately so in some ways. It will be torn! But you shall be saving two more." He grinned, his teeth flashed in the moonlight. Then like a viper the good mood was staunched. "You are this desperate? You are this selfish?" The old man said, agitated. "You do not care about the other child? This will hurt him more than the pain of you and your child combined!"_

Pain… — _EVERYWHERE! _Death…

_She raised her head, defiantly; "They are both my sons, now. I have claimed them both. I will die for them both — it is my destiny."_

_"__So you shall." The old man said, visibly distraught. Then shook his head, like he was having an internal argument, "Bah! What words you speak of! Destiny is only a fool's thing, an idiotic description of what all these urchins who believe sitting back and doing nothing will create progress. There is no such thing as destiny, just as there is no such thing as future!"_

_"__Maybe for you," She lifted her eyes, "But for them, it is what keeps the very fabric of their world together."_

_They were all silent for a moment, and then burdened with unspoken questions, the brown haired woman couldn't help but ask, "Why did she die?"_

_The man laughed, "Because I decreed it." He said simply. "There can not be two, there cannot be pair. When one begins, on must end of equal honor. It was her life, or his, and you obviously know which heart weights more on the scale of judgment." _

_"__So why am I not dead, if they are mirrors?" She asked. _

_"__No…" The queen whispered quickly, fearing the outburst. "Hush woman, you know not of what you speak of."_

_"__They are _not_ MIRRORS!" The man lashed out like a whip, "They are nothing alike! And for that you should be grateful like a thousand suns! Besides, your son's price has already been paid, several times over with only the agony of unrequited love." He looked sideways at her, daringly. _

_"__But —" _

_ "__Your son has a huge destiny… do not try and give him more, do not make him the hero of a thousand lifetimes. He will only hate you forever. You do not know the way of heroes and villains, you do not know the way of anger and hate. Of fire and Ash." He spoke with sadness unparalleled, as if he actually knew what he was saying._

_As if at one point of time, he'd actually carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders alone. _

_"__You have yet to learn the pain of being forgotten — of forgetting." He said, diminished. "But I know, I know better than anyone else. I know… I know…" He said, insane repetition. "I know the truth, and it's terrible. The truth destroys us, and eventually it will destroy every hero, martyr, and savior because yes, the truth does set us free…"_

_The queen looked up startled, anxiety webbed across her face, "Jonas, you mustn't!" _

_The man, 'Jonas,' ignored the queen, a grave sin, and continued with his tirade, "But only to a world in which death and destruction reign over every curious soul and push down the heads of those into the water so they cannot take another breath, only to eventually drown in the water of prosecutions." _

* * *

Percy wasn't sure if the moleskin pouch was bottomless, but it sure darn felt like it. He even (somehow) managed to put his cauldron in the small pouch Histshot gave him for keeping his money, and it fit without seemingly changing the weight at all. He started thinking of all the things he needed to put in there, especially if no one could get into but him…

He'd definitely put the picture of his mother he had incredibly found and snatched out of an old newspaper at Sirius's home, and Annabeth's Camp Half-Blood necklace and magic cap. His eyes quickly fluttered shut as bound memories suddenly swept past his carefully built barriers, and invaded his mind. Images… of hate, anger, longing… _Annabeth? Where are you? You promised…_

_Focus… Focus! _

Percy took deep breaths, and counted to ten, something Chiron had suggested with knowing eyes that knew more about death than any others. Percy felt a flash of anger at his old mentor, _'You could have done __**something**__!' _ He wanted to blame the old centaur with every fiber of his being… but he just… couldn't…

_Hate is anger… Anger is freedom…_

Percy shook his head savagely and started over his process of thought, willing his mind not to wander this time:

He'd definitely put the picture of his mother he had incredibly found and snatched out of an old newspaper at Sirius's home, and Annabeth's Camp Half-Blood necklace and magic cap. He'd already placed inside the weird vial full of magical Mist, and the strange stick thingy with leaves and runes he'd found at the exploded house. He was barely able to place in the four jagged shards of Riptide he had left, thinking of their sentimental value. Unconsciously thinking about his old sword, Percy slid his fingers up to the pendant on his neck, which conveniently turned into the sword Histshot malevolently gave him at Gringotts. He ran his fingers over the pendant, Percy looked at the Gryffindor Lion that had a Slytherin Snake for a tail. Was it just him, or did the entire graphic, Salazar Silver image seem to project: _Unity? _

It was probably just him.

Percy looked through the glass of the Owl Emporium, watching as Nico started to buy a particular Great Grey (that was verging on the color black) Owl, and Harry showed Leo around, browsing through the smaller breeds and pointing out the Elf Owl and Pygmy Owls which seemed to match Leo's personality.

Thinking back on it, Percy probably should've gotten an owl, but he wasn't particularly fond of them, and he still was cautious that Athena would try something callous and menacing in retribution for his failure at upholding the most important thing in his life so far. Athena kept her grudges, like a true daughter of Zeus, and Percy wasn't ready to face her again after when she'd practically killed him back on Olympus.

So Percy and Frank remained outside, as the other two of the Four shopped like teenage girls. Frank had told Percy his desire to get a toad, which in all honesty seemed incredibly weird to Percy, but he didn't mention any of his clandestine thoughts. Was it possible that they actually had stores devoted to selling young wizards the extremely exciting creature called a _t-o-a-d?_

It seemed highly unlikely, but if he knew anything about wizards, it was that they weren't quite right in the mind… and that _anything_ was possible.

Percy himself was feeling drawn to a cat; a black, unlucky one was sketched into his mind. He had never had a cat, the Orphanage was quite to small and had quite too many hungry mouths to feed, and he wasn't sure what the experience would be like — raising an animal.

He internally debated for a moment, if he should wait on the others, or go solo to find a potential ally in the harsh world. "Tell the other I'll be back in a moment," he decided, "I know exactly what I'm looking for."

Frank looked solemnly at him, expression never wavering, "Oh-kay, mate. Keep on the lookout for any toad shops."

So they did exist.

Percy jumped from the back of the bench he'd been sitting on, stretching his legs. He ran a hand through his hair, and started down the shadowed lane wondering if anybody was lurking in the shadows. The young demigod wizard passed a dress robes store, a candy store, two toad shops, and many more unusual entrepreneurs. Finally he stopped near a one story, old looking brick building with a flat roof. The sign was small and crummy, with brown stains, and said;_ The 'Fordible Feline. _Which, while just so happening to be an extremely creative name in Percy's opinion, was also the first entire cat shop he'd come across.

He pushed open the door, snatching a gaze upwards as the bell rang, informing the counter man. A huddled form behind the counter lifted its head, and Percy, after noting no cages or cats, took a few steps forward until he was in front of the man.

"Lumos!" The wizard cried, (startling Percy) swiftly pulling out his wand that ever so slowly lightened the room, bringing a multitude of colour into it.

Percy had to suppress a gasp as took in one of the ugliest faces he'd ever seen. A long, crooked nose, two drooping eyes, but what really gave him a terrible appearance was neither of those things; it was the bizarre fangs that curled from the corners of his mouth, and the large forehead with creases that webbed all over his face.

Percy unconsciously took a tiny step back, and then cursed himself quietly. He of all people shouldn't have been so quick to judge a book by its cover!

The man's voice was nothing like the broken, brittle body unfortunately; it was smooth and melodic, like a thousand melted chocolate bars. "Good evening, what can I interest you in?"

Percy was tempted to say, _Wrong store, _or _I just needed to use the latrines, _but he scolded himself for even considering it. "A cat… I am starting Hogwart's sixth year, and I would like to buy a cat."

"Ah, so can you pay? I don't do charity — or loans." The man attempted to lift an eyebrow. Attempted.

"Of course," Percy said, slightly offended, "Money is of no issue."

"Then follow me." The man opened a door and led Percy through it, he flicked his wand with an unknown spell, and suddenly there were cages stacked up on top of each other, and two to three cats in a cage! Percy looked around and around at all the cats, while depressed 'meows' sounded in his ears.

He felt a spike of anger at the man for keeping these animals in cooped up, anger at him for obviously not taking well enough care or them. He could count the ribs on every single cat, and even he knew that wasn't a good sign. Percy wasn't brazen enough to swear on the River Styx to someday save them all, but he sure wanted to.

"This is barbaric," Percy told the man.

"They're cats," he scoffed, "they don't care. They provide money when I sell them to beginning wizards, and food when they get old and I hungry." He laughed at his own joke.

Percy felt sick for a moment, "Of course they care!" he gritted his teeth together.

Trying not to dwell on the inhumanity, he browsed through Maine Coon, Siamese, Bengal and other breeds more exotic then the last, finally stopping at a Russian Blue.

This was the first cat to spark his interest to an inordinate level. Her nametag read _10-month-old Russian Blue, sired by the Great and Powerful Oz and her majesty Queen. _

Percy had never actually seen the Wizard of Oz, but he was pretty sure the 'wizard' of Oz wasn't a cat — or that the Wizards actually knew what a _movie _was. Oh well, who was he to judge?

The price seemed lofty, so he pointed to the cat and offered half. And thus the project of debate began between the two stubborn males while the Russian Blue continued to stare at Percy with cool, deep green eyes that mirrored his own.

"No deal," Percy said smoothly when the wizard offered double the original price, then said with heavily lidded eyes to give the appearance of nonchalance, "I am weary of this; I have graciously offered you half, and that is my last offer."

The wizard regarded him coldly, and then smiled with crooked teeth, "No deal."

Percy met his gaze evenly, not having expected the old one to say yes. "Then I'm sorry for you." He had not hardened his heart because he believed the price was unreasonably expensive — it wasn't. Percy himself was being unreasonable for the intention of retribution for both the ill-treated cats. Was he a softy for cats in his heart? Yeah, he guessed, he would have to curb the tendency later; he had to room for weaknesses.

He strolled down another isle, and waited for the moment when the shopkeeper took his hawk-like gaze somewhere else. And then he pounced. Sprinting back to the isle with the Russian Blue, he quickly undid the latch; the cat instinctively knowing what to do climbed up his arm and curled tightly around his neck.

"Stop! Thief! STOP!" The shopkeeper yelled, cursed at Percy in a way he hadn't heard a wizard do yet. He started limping towards them at a respectable rate.

Percy, thoughtful, ran though rows and started unlatching boxes as he went, and as soon as the cat was free knocking the crates on the ground. The old man cussed savagely as he stubbed his toe on one fallen.

The son of none laughed crazily as he saw the chaos around him, laughed at the ludicrous pain on the shopkeepers face. He had a fleeting feeling to burn the building down, but quickly pushed that thought aside, no need to get caught up with power. He reached the door they'd previously come through, and led all the cats outside as the broken shopkeeper drabbled as fast as he could.

Percy opened the exit and ushered the cats outside, before turning back to the old wizard who had tripped on the threshold. He had gotten his wand out and trained directly at Percy's heart, "_CRUCIO!" _

Percy's blood ran cold for a moment, but some hidden instinct led him to bring up his arm, _"Expelliarmus!" _He cried, the old wizards eyes widened when Percy cast his wandless spell, and even more so when the ray actually came out of his palm. His left, marked arm started glowing silver softly.

_Yeah, that's right,_ Percy thought, _fear me old man. _

The two rays met in the center, Percy's immediately overpowering the old wizard's. When the spell reached the wizard's wand, it flew out of his hand; Percy was able to grab it with a save that would've made even the most devout quidditch player proud. He quickly broke the wand in two and threw the pieces on the ground. With a fleeting look around him, he noticed some wizards taking notice of the novice duel, and before any serious pictures or other evidence were taken, Percy apparated back to Frank — just in time. He hadn't noticed the spinning knife trained on his heart.

For a few seconds his pupils remained dilated as if remaining watchful for other threats. Percy then took a second to look back on his actions, was he sorry for the wizard? No, Percy wasn't the least bit sorry. Being sorry was a weakness. Were the gods sorry? Of course not. They couldn't care less about how many lives were lost so long as whatever they desired was accomplished thoroughly and in a timely manor.

Frank suddenly coughed beside him. "So, what happened? I can tell by your facial expression you either made someone angry, or someone made you angry." Frank grinned wryly, "I assume it has something to do with the forty-eight cats escape because a mysterious black haired, green eyed teenager?"

Percy stared, mouth agape, but his jaw touched the floor when Frank pointed at a magical newspaper that caught just enough of his appearance to make him a possible suspect. "That's not possible." He finally got out. "I was there, like, two seconds ago."

"Oh, sure it is," Frank dismissed, "The wizards can do anything."

_Great, two days in and I already have a record as a wanted thief. _Percy sighed, and tucked the wand in his pouch. Then he realized something: there was a certain black cat bathing at his feet, she lifted her head and purred softly at him.

He felt his heart squeeze painfully as he took in the pitiful creature, so full of life yet completely trusting and helpless — it knew nothing different, as Percy unthinkingly did.

He kneeled by the cat, closer to kitten, really, and in a split decision decided to name her Lily.

He had no idea why, but the name fit, in some extraterrestrial way.

Perhaps as a tribute to Harry, for his dead mother, perhaps a tribute to himself for the loss of his entire world.

_As if naming an animal in tribute can make up for everyone who's gone,_ Percy snorted, but for some unknown reason… he kept the name… the same…

* * *

"This is an experience you have to face alone," Harry told the Four, with the air of superiority that can only come from a veteran in the particular area of expertise. "The wand is special, it listens to you and interference is not welcome when your soul connects with something as exciting as liverwort."

"Yes sir, Captain Spiritual!" Leo saluted mockingly. He was standing a little apart from the others, as if cautious, and leaning against the wall of Ollivander's. He was fiddling with four wires, steel wool, and an electromagnet (not that Harry actually knew what that was, he just read the giant label on the giant battery, kudos for process of elimination!) with a light bulb attached. Harry deducted that (somehow) Leo was going to make the light bulb light up. Was that obvious? Probably so.

When Leo's comment finally sunk in, Harry turned an appropriate shade of red, "Sh-shut up!"

"I do not intend on connecting souls with _liverwort." _Percy then sniffed, offended. "In fact, a good Swedish mushroom connection seems to be of liking."

"Yes," Nico said, drawling, "Because mushrooms share so much in common with your meek, generous personality. A perfect match, really."

"Death Breath." Percy shot.

"Starfish Skull!" Nico slipped in, rather imaginatively.

"If you two will behave for five seconds, I'm going to go in," Frank said, rolling his eyes at the extremely mature nature of the sons of the elder gods. He pushed himself off the brick wall and went into the building with confidence Percy wished he could duplicate.

"Corpse Face," Percy muttered out of the side of his mouth as soon as Frank was out of earshot.

"Leo's awesome." Leo said, looking around in mock innocence, "Who said that?"

Harry stared at them with a bizarre smile on his face, having only met the lot hours ago (and spending most of that time in a bloodthirsty court room); he hadn't had the time to analyze how they acted as a group.

But they didn't act like a group — they acted like a family.

And yeah, Harry himself had the same kind of thing going on with Ron and Hermione, yet with Percy it was completely different. He was the big brother for the other Three, and Harry could only add that fact to the list of things he coveted about Mr. Percy Jackson. Harry himself wanted a big brother, and with Ron and Hermione he would never have that. In fact, he would always be their protector, _their _big brother figure throughout Hogwarts.

Harry shook his head rapidly. He must've eaten some poisonous mushrooms at dinner last night; Harry was feeling _way _too sentimental for it to be a normal sensation.

But part of him… couldn't… deny the longing…

"Scar face!" Percy stuck his tongue out (in an extremely mature manor, mind you) and whacked Harry upside the head with the moleskin pouch he'd gotten at Gringotts. It felt like being his with a cauldron — literally. Harry had seen Percy impossibly fit his pewter cauldron in it.

Harry immediately jumped back with a hiss (Not to mention a stinging jaw), "You asked for it, Pure Face!" He said and tackled Percy to the ground, momentarily pushing all worries aside to just be a kid once more.

Percy's bright green eyes popped up in minimal confusion as he fell to the ground, thinking on his feet (Well, not really, more like thinking on his buttocks) he said, "Oh, Harry, you think my face is pure? Is that just another word for divine, like the rest of me?"

"Precisely," Harry rolled his eyes and stood up (lightly kicking Percy in the side), brushing dirt of his jeans. He met the stares of other angry wizards across the lane that were cross at the disturbance the four were creating, they eyed them as one would a piece of molded cheese. "Why do people hate us so much?" Harry lifted his arms in surrender, "Oh, that's right, it's because Percy's here."

As Leo's hands flew on his contraption, he spared a glance at Harry with a raised eyebrow before turning to Percy with a horrified look, "You've corrupted him!"

Nico snorted, "Please, the only thing Percy can corrupt is perfectly good pancakes. I mean seriously, _blueberries?_"

"Argh!" Percy lifted his hands and almost knocked the hat off a passerby (who glared at him quite surreptitiously), "Can we stop having Percy's Daily Bashing? And for your information, Mr. I–eat–two–grapes–for–breakfast, blueberry pancakes are the best!"

Harry grinned wickedly, "Rubbish, mate! Mrs. Weasley's chocolate pancakes are to die for."

Percy snorted, "You sound like a teenage girl, _'Those chocolate pancakes are, like, to die for!' _ He said in a really high-pitched voice.

"You're impossible!" Harry said, exasperated.

Percy smiled slyly and put his hands in the air like he couldn't help but (jokingly) get on Harry's nerves.

The four continued to banter as they waited for Frank. Harry watched as all Three of the boys never quite stopped moving, Leo was beating out some tune on his metal contraption that was finished and producing an eerie purple light that gave the lightning scarred boy silent shivers. Nico Di Angelo still gave Harry slight creeps himself; but was currently swaying as he stood, back and forth, side to side yet never close to loosing his balance. And the great Percy Jackson himself was standing serenely, still except for his eyes that darted placidly everywhere… except not. His eyes were sharp hawks, they brooded like emeralds and shot lasers through even the thickest barrier.

Harry wondered why the four were here, what their purpose was. He silently flashed to one of the muggle movies the Dursleys' had watched, the ones where a spy went undercover to destroy their enemy from the inside.

Harry wondered if Percy Jackson and his group was the enemy.

He wondered why he felt so safe around the group.

Harry wondered a lot of things, but more often then not, he only found answers through near death experiences and shocking truths that practically ripped his mind and soul to grizzled shreds.

* * *

_Frank — 12", Cedar, an earth whisp core, 'good for charms,' _Percy thought, _Leo — 10", Supple Oak, fire gem core, 'surprisingly heavy,' Nico — Shadewood, core is shadow of the dragoman ice, 'good for necromancers.'_

Percy wondered if his wand would sound as cool as Nico's, with the whole 'Shadow of the dragoman ice,' thing going on as he stepped through the lonely threshold into the second shop he'd ventured into alone so far. It was dimly lit, but instead of a supremely ugly man behind the counter their stood an old man who, while looked a little crazed, also had an all around good natured look.

"Hello… I'm Percy Jackson, Sixth Year at Hogwarts… Uh, I need a wand, I guess."

The man correctly preformed an arched eyebrow, "You guess…?"

"Whatever," Percy sighed sullenly, "I just need a wand."

Ollivander pressed his lips into a small smile, before stepping forward to take his arm, ear, and hair length measurements. The man talked gibberish to himself, and then ran off into the long halls off wands to fetch Percy's Swedish Mushroom.

Percy stood dully for a second, suddenly startled when Ollivander shoved a wand box towards his face.

"Try this, Ironwood, dragon heartstring." He said, his eyes brightening when the wand did nothing in Percy's swishing hand. "I do love a challenge," he muttered to himself. He returned with five more boxes precariously stacked on top of each other.

"Ten inch, bamboo, crystalized starlight… Twelve inch, Hawthorne, giant eye… Nine inch, sycamore, everlasting water…" As fast as he was bringing new wands in, he was being shot down. Two wands had immediately started hitting Percy in the head after the initial swish, and one started frantically spraying acid water throughout the shop.

"This isn't working," Percy deadpanned, "I've been in here at least thirty minutes and we're no closer to finding my wand!"

Ollivander suddenly got a gleam in his eye, and Percy understood the look as, _"Bingo by darn, I got it!" _ He ran into the back room and with milky, glassy eyes brought out a metal box, which Percy presumed inside of laid a very special wand. "Percy," he said solemnly, "This is not just any wand… This is the Finnis — the end. The last wand made by Alexio the Great. This wand is over hundreds of years old, passed down through many generations — and finally to me." Ollivander said, "But beware, this wand is cunning, this wand is dangerous." He snapped the box open, and Percy waited curiously for the reveal.

It was a very pretty wand — almost too pretty. It was made of not wood, but a metal Percy could define as Salazar Silver with intricate patterns inlaid with golden slivers. Percy hesitated in picking it up, something, and he didn't know what, felt off about the wand. Almost as if something in his soul begged him not to pick it up… to even touch it…

_Annabeth?_

He reached out his hand, ever so slightly… and touched the wand.

Percy immediately cried out in pain as it laced down his arm and through his body like a bunch of electrical currents. It felt like something sharp was being fused together, new and fresh yet darker and deadlier. Painfully squeezing his eyes open, to his dismay he realized he was sprawled on the floor clutching his left arm tightly. Ollivander's face was above him, looking alert and worried.

"As soon as you touched it, the wand disappeared," Ollivander made wild gestures with his hands, distraught.

Percy reached up and felt his head for injury, finding nothing he immediately got to his feet.

"I assume that is a rejection of hosts?" Percy said bitterly.

Ollivander did not answer.

With a tight smile Percy asked, "I have something to show you… I found this somewhere, and wanted to know if you anything about it." He dug into his bottomless pouch and got out the willow branch; it's leaves beginning to wither yellow.

Ollivander snatched it up and with a practiced eye critically analyzed it, "Where did you find this?"

Percy lied, "At a lake, the water had brought it to shore, I noticed the weird runes." He could tell that the old wizards didn't believe him, but was thankful that Ollivander didn't press the matter.

Ollivander's face twisted into a small but bright smile, as if he was replaying his fondest memories, "This is a special trinket, my boy."

Percy hedged forwards, "I assumed it was some sort of wand?"

"Yes, there have been several documented cases of this… When a wand's owner dies… The wand may revert dormant to its mother function. In this case — a willow branch." He said, "The runes are an elder language, a spell perhaps to bring back the wand to its former state but is incomprehensible."

"Can you use this to make me a wand?" Percy suddenly blurted out. "Forgive me, that was inappropriate… Instead can you turn this back into it's previous state? I do not wish to use this wand, it is to pure, and I could only taint such a thing." He looked to the ground.

Ollivander's smile froze, then slowly came back as he closed his eyes, acting as if he had not heard the second question answered, "Yes, I am sure she would want you to have this. You are… similar — somehow." Ollivander grasped Percy's hand tightly and marched them to his back office. They stopped in front of a large layout of tools and cores and different types of wood. "You shall have the best wand!" He said, as if guilty that the Finnis had been a failure.

The old wizard stripped off the smaller twigs with a whittling knife, and Percy cautiously noticed how they immediately turned to ashes. Ollivander spared it no glance as he polished the stick with an auburn solution. He used a spell to hollow the inside of the wand and then paused…

"A perfect core is not an easy thing to come by, Mr. Jackson." Ollivander's voice was emotionless, but Percy knew that there was a silent question.

He hesitated, "As said before… I do not wish to use this wand, it is only a décor and a project."

"If you should have this _stick _be an actuality and not just a myth, it needs a core." Ollivander tapped his foot impatiently. "And I do not have any cores to spare on your _project._"

Percy winced. What did he have to give the man? He had one thing… _No! _He would never give that… but there was nothing else… _Would Annabeth approve? _Percy sighed — Annabeth wouldn't approve a lot of things he did now days. He dug his hand into the bag and drew out a shard of his once mighty blade. Percy slammed it on table with a resounding thump as it stuck in the table.

"Here" Percy said. "Use that."

Ollivander grinned, and ushered him out of the room, saying something incomprehensible.

"Hey! Wait," Percy protested, and then the door closed.

He sighed in defeat, and walked over to a painting of a triangle with a circle at the eye of it. A lone line was draw through the center or the piece and cut it in two. He dismissed it without a thought, and continued to stare into blank space.

At nothingness, at all.

∞§∞

Ollivander handed him the wand in the same box the Finnis had sat in. Percy took it and cradled it, "What are the proportions?'

Ollivander smiled over heavily lidded eyes, he began to walk to his study, "Willow branch, an astounding thirteen inches, core of a celestial bronze, imperial gold, Salazar silver, stygian iron alloy — and a leaf from a sixty-seven leafed-clover. _Surprisingly rebellious_." And the door shut.

Percy's eyes widened, "How dare you! You messed with me! You knew all along so you _stole _from me!" He raced up to the door and pounded on it.

With no hesitation from the other side Ollivander said, "I did what I needed to do, demigod… and for that I am sorry."

∞§∞

He stepped out of the shop and winced as his eyes adjusted to the light. He had spent several moments inside the shop testing out his new wand (not to mention wrecking havoc on Ollivander). There was no way he would epically fail in front of his friends as he cast his first spell.

The magic had felt different with a wand, more subdued now that it had a filament to keep track of it's raw potential. Percy wasn't positive, but he actually thought he felt less powerful with the wand — as if the only magic a son of none should only use was the rawest, coarsest magic of them all.

Percy looked up at the faces of his friends, "C'mon."

They left the wand shop and Four got their robes and other necessities as quickly as they could, often sprinting from place to place. Soon they were back to the Weasley's house with all their belongings.

The four stood awkwardly as Mrs. Weasley embraced Harry, but none of them had mothers themselves so they all could understand that which Harry held onto. Subconsciously they all appreciated Mrs. Weasley because of what she did for Harry. How she acted like a mother.

Percy shook his head like a dog, _Waaaaaaaay to sentimental. _

He stepped forward, "Thank you for letting my friends and I stay at Order's base, it means a lot to us."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes softened, "You're welcome on behalf of the Order, and Percy, you and your friends will always be welcome at my hearth."

"Thank you, ma'am." They said in unison.

Sirius walked in the room, a scowl on his face, "We've been holding the food for you," he grumbled, "I'm hungry."

* * *

It was evident to Percy that Sirius was not quite happy that Harry was to go back to Hogwarts. It was comical, really, how much the man's mood changed sour and terse over the week.

"Don't you go feeling guilty!" said Hermione sternly, after Harry had confided some of his feelings to her, Ron, and Percy while they scrubbed out a moldy cupboard on the third floor a few days later. Nico, Frank, and Leo were all fighting bloodgnats downstairs, and the less "skilled" magicians were sent to deal with mold. The gesture was not lost on Percy. "You belong at Hogwarts and Sirius knows it." Hermione continued, "Personally, I think he's being selfish."

"That's a bit harsh, Hermione," said Ron, getting hysterical as a piece of mold began growing on his thumb, "you wouldn't want to be stuck inside this house without company."

Percy laughed at Ron in the comforts of his head, but silently agreed with Hermione, catching her eye. He gave her a subtle nod, _Go on… they need to know._

"He'll have company!" said Hermione, barely hesitating. "It's headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Harry would be coming to live here with him."

"I don't think that's true," said Harry, wringing green clumpy water out of his cloth. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could."

"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more," said Hermione wisely. "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think a part of him was really hoping you'd be expelled. Then you'd both be outcasts together."

"Come off it!" said Harry and Ron together, but Hermione merely shrugged.

"Suit yourselves. But I sometimes think Ron's mum's right, and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you or your father, Harry."

"So you think he's touched in the head?" said Harry heatedly.

"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time," said Hermione.

"Don't be blind," Percy said simply, "but don't search for another answer when one is presenting itself in front of you." He stood up, "I don't know Sirius, and I'm sorry if I offend you, but I know people… Your mentor needs to get a grip of reality, your education is your primary weapon."

Ron blinked. Harry stared.

"What?" Percy asked, unknowingly as he scraped mold off the door panel.

"You don't understand," Harry muttered under his breath.

At this point Mrs. Weasley entered the bedroom behind them. "Still not finished?" she said, poking her head into the cupboard.

"I thought you might be here to tell us to have a break!" said Ron bitterly. "D'you know how much mold we've got rid of since we arrived here?"

"You were so keen to help the Order," said Mrs. Weasley, "you can do your bit by making headquarters fit to live in."

"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron.

"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" said Hermione hopefully, as Mrs. Weasley left them to it again.

"Spew? Does Ron have an issue with actively spewing thing?" Percy asked, horrified in a naïve way.

"No," Hermione laughed, "It's an organization to help house elves," and she proceeded to go into very deep details about what S.P.E.W did, how they did it, and why they did it.

Ron nudged Harry pointedly, "If by organization she means herself, then yes, it is an organization."

Harry smiled, "By the looks of it, she just got a new member," he whispered eyeing Percy as he spoke animatedly to the bushy haired witch whose eyes sparkled as she talked.

On the very last day of their Holiday Percy stood in the room that Harry, Ron, and he slept in while Frank, Nico, and Leo slept in another room right next to theirs'. He dusted off the wardrobe as Harry swept up Hedwig's owl droppings and Ron attempted to make the bed.

Nico entered the room carrying several large packages, "Since booklists arrived much earlier then usual, I'd guess these are acceptance letters…" He tossed one to Ron, Harry, and to Percy's surprise he received one as well.

Nodding thanks to Nico, Percy set down his package and continued to wipe down the wardrobe.

_Crack._

Percy didn't even turn around, having gotten used to the sound of Apparating weeks ago.

"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.

"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.

"And about time too," said Fred, trying to peer over Harry's shoulder, "It should be on the acceptance letters, where all the teachers sign at the bottom…"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside him, "About time too,'" he quoted, "you make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."

"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, ticking them off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

Percy smiled warmly and jumped down, "That sounds almost as bad as my school record." George high-fived him, "Cause you know, getting expelled from six muggle schools isn't _that _bad."

"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred, noting the younger boy's unusual silence.

Ron did not reply. Percy looked around. Ron was standing still, not moving a muscle as his mouth gaped at the Hogwarts letter. "What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment.

Fred's mouth fell open too.

"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter.

"_Prefect_?" George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Percy saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice. "By Merlin's beard!"

"There's been a mistake," said Fred as he snatched the letter out of Ron's hand and held it up to a light as if searching for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. . . ."

The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry, who was standing right next to Percy.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in an accusing tone.

"We thought Dumbledore was _bound _to pick you!" said George indignantly as he marched up to Harry and took his own letter, skimming through it.

Percy stepped back, he had a feeling a long rant was coming. Watching as Lily jumped off from the top bunk bed, he stretched out his arms for her to safely land in.

"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.

"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right."

He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look.

"Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . ."

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him.

Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it and studied it.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.

"Did you — did you get — ?"

She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek that rang in Percy's eardrums _much _longer than it should have.

"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter with surprising force. "Me too, Harry, me too!"

"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand.

"It's Ron, not me."

"It — what?"

"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.

"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But . . . are you sure? I mean —"

Percy snickered at her artlessness. He sat down next to Lily and began to go through his trunk, _No need to watch the Hermione embarrass herself,_ he admonished to himself. _Robes, books, Lily's cage…_

"It's my name on the letter," Ron said defiantly.

"I . . ." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I . . . well . . . wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"

"Unexpected," said George, nodding.

"Unnecessary," said Fred, looking at George with a wink.

"And extremely uncalled for," the twins recited together.

"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not . . . Ron's done loads of . . . he's really . . ."

Percy let out a laugh, "Come now, for all you disbelievers, does Dumbledore make mistakes? I think not. Congratulations Ron." Lily meowed in affirmative. "See! My cat agrees." Percy clapped the redheaded boy on the back. Ripping the paper off his own envelope, Percy sat back silently and watched humorously as Mrs. Weasley gave a high pitched squeal at the news, and to Ron's delight decided to buy him a new broom. Ron then rushed out of the room to talk with his mother, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Percy in the room alone.

With a lazy look at the two, he started humming as he began to read his acceptance letter, which was next to, impossible with his dyslexia making letters fly off the page. _Blah… Blah… _Percy could barely recall a word after he finished reading. He suddenly looked up, wondering at the snort of laughter coming from Harry.

Hermione had left to send a letter to her parents, but Harry was still in the room grumbling under his breath. "Harry…?" The younger boy looked up at him, glaring. "Hey, I know you're upset, but don't sweat it… Be happy for Ron, I can tell he rarely gets the credit he deserves."

Harry finally conceded, "I know," he said in a hollow voice, "I just… I'm a terrible friend," he said miserably.

"If it helps," Percy started sympathetically, "I helped this person out, and when I brought her to my friends it seemed like for no reason everyone started looking to her… It rubbed me the wrong way, but we ended up becoming great friends."

"It doesn't, but thanks for trying," Harry laughed.

Percy blinked… _Okaaaay… _He went back to his second letter as Harry fed Hedwig, and then stopped dead.

"H-Harry…" and waited until he got his unwavering attention, "D'you remember when I said Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes…? I think he just made one — a big huge one," Percy practically shoved the letter in Harry's face.

_Dear Perseus Rydall Jackson,_

_Since your school records have been previously marred with an obvious lack of authority and other prank-like behaviors, I find that the best way to curb these childish acts is to immediately enroll you in stimulating __**Leadership Programs.**__ This is effective immediately and whichever house you are sorted into, you will become a third Prefect for the Sixth Years. Please take this into consideration when you no doubt find this letter angering, I do not want my school to be blown up, harmed, attacked in __any way__, as your other schools have been thus treated_. _I hope that with these duties, you will realize the importance of setting examples, and that any act out of conduct cannot be permitted to grow. I have found that children who have an obvious hatred for authority, once placed in it's clutches are more likely to mature and less likely to step out of line. You're badge will be given to you upon your arrival to Hogwarts, and I hope to see you grow splendidly in both magical and material means. _

_— __Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, __**Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

"I'm dead, aren't I, Harry," Percy said miserably.

"You are, Jackson, you really are," Harry answered solemnly.

* * *

**POLL RESULTS:  
**

**Luna — 27  
**

**Hermione — 3**

**Ginny — Me, so 1 :( (Sad face)  
**

**Daphnee Greengrass — 3**

**OC — 2**

**FOREVER ALONE — 33 (19 + 14 is 32, right?)  
**

**POLL IS OVER... unless I have an overwhelming amount of people say otherwise ;)**

**GOOODBYE KNIGHTS, **

**Jay**


End file.
